Twisted Halo
by Winchesterfan11
Summary: When Dean Winchester visits his brother Sam at Uni he meets Sam's roommate, Castiel Novak. Their meeting sets off a catalyst of events, sparking the darkest, most forbidden love that is known on earth. That of an Angel and a Human. WARNING: Explicit, Destiel.
1. The Meeting

**Trying my hand at some Destiel for a change. Hoping I can update this story as often as possible but just depends. Got some big plans for this however! **

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Hot summer sun sparkled down on the body of the Impala when Dean pulled up outside the building. Metallica was thumping through his veins after the long ride and he was still mid jam when he cut the motor. Whistling a tune he curiously peered out the window to double check the address he had scribbled down when Sammy called. Seemed right. He knew it must be one of the rooms up that path.

Confidently Dean slipped out of the car, swinging a black hold-all bag over his shoulder and locked her up, patting his hand on the hood of his precious baby. He nodded proudly to himself and began striding up the path towards the red brick dorm in the distance, his bag swinging under his arm.

It sure had been a long time since he'd last heard from Sam. They tried to call each other at least once a week but understandably lessons and finals were taking priority and they hadn't managed to talk properly in nearly a month. He was thrilled when Sam had rung and invited him to come stay for the weekend. More so for an excuse to get away from Dad.

Dean skimmed a look around the campus while he walked and breathed deeply. Sam leaving for college had impacted hard on him, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone. The past year had been a learning curve for sure. For the first time in his life, since he was a four year old boy, Dean had been alone. Completely. He knew he would always have his Dad around somewhere or other and Sammy was a mere phone call away, but for months Dean spent his nights chugging beer in cheap motels and driving the highways with his cassettes for company.

Sam seemed to be doing well from what Dean could gather and despite how lonely he felt, he was still incredibly proud that his brother had managed to successfully escape the hunting lifestyle. It sure was tough now though. Especially going at it as a lone ranger. For the next few days however Dean just wanted to put hunting to the back of his mind and enjoy the college experience.

Sun rays scattered through the green treetops down onto the cobbled path, highlighting on Dean's dark blonde hair as he walked on. A lady on a bike whizzed by and two joggers bounced past him. Followed by a group of girls carrying travel coffee cups wandering in Deans direction, smiling and giggling when they caught his gaze. Dean was used to this kind of attention. Females seemed to fawn over him. He dug his hands into his jeans pockets and winked at the women for fun.

Still focused on the skirt tails of the girls Dean stumbled right into a bustling body. A stack of leather bound books tumbled to the ground and a pair of glasses fell onto the stones. A smartly dressed man lowered down immediately to collect up his belongings, dark locks tumbling over his brow. Dean turned wide eyed, arms up, peering down at the black haired stranger.

"Oh shit, sorry dude," Dean apologised, kneeling down to help the student, his bag slipping off slightly at the shoulder.

Dean picked up the black specs, using his sleeve to wipe at the glass before he handed them over to the man. The mans nimble hands stuffed the glasses into a trench coat pocket and he scooped up the papers and novels, dusting the covers.

Dean looked up at the tanned faced guy, smoothing a hand over his jaw, "I hope they aren't cracked." The man shook his head dismissively, mumbling agitatedly away to himself. Dean rose to his feet, readjusting his bag comfortably onto his shoulder and the man quickly got up too, a jumble of folders hanging precariously out of his satchel before he tucked them safely back in.

Dean reached out a hand, "I'm Dean." The man smoothed a hand through his hair, pushing it up and out of his face. Dean couldn't help but stare at the bright, cobalt eyes that gazed back at him.

"You should look where you're going," the man replied, awkwardly shaking Dean's hand. Dean blinked and looked down at his palms; this guys hands were so soft, like weirdly smooth.

"Yeh I know I'm sorry, I'm kinda lost," Dean explained with a goofy grin.

"I can tell," replied the man sharply.

Dean slumped and rolled his eyes. This guy clearly wasn't having any of his charm. His voice was cold and monotone. An unimpressed expression painted on his face. Then to Dean's surprise the man just started to stride away without a word.

"Well could you maybe give me some directions?" Dean shouted after him, hands on his hips irritated.

"I haven't got the time. I'm late," the student called back as he rushed off.

Dean shook his head annoyed, "Asshole." He turned and strode off, hands thrust back into his pockets and frustration creasing his brow.

Kicking some pebbles along the cobbles with his boots Dean marched up to the dorm building entrance. The door swung open with a whine. Dean winced. Those kinds of high-pitched screeches and creaks really made his skin crawl. Gave him terrible flashbacks to former hunting trips; blood-curdling Banshee shrieks in particular. He rubbed his forehead, metaphorically shaking away those memories, reminding himself that for the foreseeable future hunting was not in his job description.

Dean scanned the corridors, eyes flicking up from the scrap of paper to the door numbers till finally he came to the right room. He rattled his knuckles loudly on the wood panels. The door flung open and he was greeted by a bear hug; two long arms wrapping round his body, hands patting his back.

"Hiya Sammy!" Dean managed to say as his brother embraced him. Sam was as tall as ever. Dean just came up to his shoulders. He grumbled at the height difference.  
"You need to stop growing so much dude," Dean said, poking two fingers into Sams ribs. His brother released him from his hold and fitted away with a jump.

"Hey! None of that you jerk," Sam laughed. Dean looked him up and down. He certainly had changed a lot. A messy mop of hair curled down his clean shaven face and toppled onto his hoodie which he had half zipped up. A pair of sneakers were tucked under some tight, black jeans with rips in them. Casually Sam stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets.  
"You part of a boy band now or something?" Dean raised his eyebrow questioningly at Sams new style.

Sam shook his head chuckling and moving over towards a bed by the window, "Shuddup you ass. Did you find the room alright?"

Dean closed the room door behind him and walked over toward Sam dropping his hold-all on the wooden floor by the bed. Sams duvet was piled in a heap and he collapsed into the bed lazily. Half of the room, clearly Sams side, was a mess. A bookshelf on the wall beside Sams bed was cluttered with dusty books and folders and pencils. On the wall was an array of band posters and magazine cut outs all tacked on in a wild collage. Hangers and t-shirts scattered the floor. Yet on the other side of the room there wasn't a thing out of place. A sleek black bookshelf housed alphabetised collections and paper weights and a thriving fern plant. The bed was made with completely white sheets and on the wall was a calendar, a whiteboard and a notice board.

Dean kicked at a pair of jeans on the floor, "Yeah I found the place okay in the end. Looks like you have a WILD roommate. How come your sides such a bloody mess?"  
"Yeah my roommate, Cas, is pretty well organised. The room is like this after most weekends. Jess likes to go out and we always end up getting way too drunk. I was just gonna give a quick tidy when you arrived," Sam explained, sitting up and stuffing some clothes into drawers.

"Oh, Jess huh? I remember you mentioning something 'bout a girl last time we talked. This the same girl?" Dean asked.

Sam messed a hand through his head embarrassed, "Yeah, it is. Jess is great Dean, you'll really like her. She's really down to earth and funny. Plus she's hot as hell. I was actually going to meet her in a little while. I wasn't expecting you to get here so quickly. Maybe you could come along and meet her?"

"I drove straight here. Thought about stopping for something to eat but in the end I just drove all the way. I don't wanna get in the way of you two Sammy, if you've got plans. I could just chill. It's no biggy."

"You wouldn't be getting in the way. Come with," Sam insisted.

"Nah, honestly Sammy, I'm good. I was hoping to catch a shower anyway. Why don't I freshen up, let you see Jess and maybe you could bring her back here and we could all go out for food?" Dean suggested. Sam stood up grinning.

"Sounds great. I'll text you when we're on our way back. There are towels and stuff in the bathroom just there," Sam indicated to a door next to the black bookshelf, on the other side of the room. Dean nodded and Sam playfully punched his shoulder before waving and walking out of the door.

Dean exhaled loudly and fell back onto the bed rubbing his head. His mind was buzzing with thoughts. Sam had transformed. He was like a different person. Same skin. Same crazy hairstyle. But a stranger behind the eyes. There was a new twinkle, a sparkle of hope, glinting in the corner of Sams hazel gaze. Dean hadn't seen that look before. True happiness.

There was an ache in his chest. Like a tear in the seam of his heart. Sam had finally found joy. He had made it. Although Dean was ecstatic for his brother he was partly devastated. There was no way Sam could come back to him now. It wasn't fair. Where was his chance to escape? Why had he never broke free? Sammy. That's why. Dean had raised a child. From bottle to a rowdy teenager. Another person that depended on him to house and educate and feed. There hadn't been time to pack up and go to college. The apple pie life was getting further and further away. Like the string of a balloon drifting up into the clouds, fingertips apart. Dean wiped his fingers over his weary eyes. Already, at just 26, he was getting ageing creases at the corners of his eyelids and bags were forming under his lashes.

Dean felt like he had been brought up tired. Never a chance to rest. Always moving. Always working. He drifted back to many memories when he was a boy; clambering out of bed in the dead of night to rock crying Sammy to sleep; sitting at a motel table reading through Sams English homework; training everyday at the crack of dawn in preparation for hunting trips. He was constantly on the go. An endless list of things to do. When he'd had a chance to unwind he only spent a short time at a local bar drinking whisky because he knew in his heart that Sam would be waiting in their motel room.

Dean swung his body up off the bed and walked forward into the bathroom. Enough feeling sorry for himself. For the next few days he was going to chill. Starting with a hot shower. He sourced out the towels and set them on the counter. Swiftly he unbuttoned his plaid shirt and folded it up on the floor, followed by a grey t-shirt. He put an arm into the shower cubicle and flicked the water switch, a drumming spray of water shooting out of the shower head into the drain. Holding onto the hem of his jeans and boxers Dean dropped down the last of his clothes till he stood bare naked in the bathroom. He waited a moment so that steam rose up and fogged up the glass of the shower walls before he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

The water slashed down onto Dean's body. He was pleasantly surprised at how strong the jet of water was against his skin considering he was in a college dorm. The drumming liquid ran over his shoulders and down the indent in his back, trailing down till it sloshed off the curve of his ass. He hung his head under the shower head till wet strands of hair were stuck to his forehead. The constant thrum into his skull releasing his animosity and sadness. Like a detox. All the jealous thoughts washing away like dirt down the drain. Slowly Dean stepped away from the spray, poured some shower gel into his palms and massaged the gel in circles till it transitioned into a foamy lather. Then he began running his hand softly over his chest and forearms. The bubbles floated down his biceps. He clapped his hands together, rubbing his fingers into each other and gathering more soap. Next Dean cleansed his cheeks with the mixture, washing his face and the black circles under his eyes. He inched his palms down his jawline over his stubble. Once the water had washed away all the suds Dean turned the shower off and stepped out onto a bathmat dripping.

He quickly whipped the towel from the counter round his head and shook his hair through the softness of the fabric till he had a messy, half-dry hairdo. He then rubbed the towel down his chest to his junk, letting the towel drop around his thighs. Shifting the towel around his waist Dean tucked in the edge of the fabric tightly so that the towel was tied round around his hips and walked out of the bathroom.

A light steam followed him out into the airy bedroom and he was fumbling with his hair, eyes skimming across the ground. When he looked up Dean's heart stammered, in a split second his focus cleared on the shape of a man rummaging through the black bookshelf, much smaller than Sammy for sure and his body jumped into reflex fight position.

"Who the fuck are you!" Dean exclaimed, fists ready to swing. The man spun round in shock. Dean recognised him immediately. The same douchebag he'd bumped into earlier in the street. Exact trench coat, bag and books still equipped on his body but his expression was contorted. Blue eyes bulging. His cheeks burning deep red. Mouth hanging open in surprise.

"What are you doing in my room?" The man stuttered, body quivering on the spot. His white shirt was hanging out at the sides and his blue tie dangled loosely. There was a slight gleam of sweat across his brow and Dean could sense the panic and confusion mixing behind his stare.

Dean relaxed his fists by his side, "Your room? Your Sammy's roommate? Cas, is it?"

"Castiel. Only my friends call me Cas. This is our room yes. Who on earth are you? Why are you here.. Using our shower?" The man asked angrily, stumbling back slightly.

"Dean. We met earlier out on the street. I walked into you," Dean explained itching his damp scalp with his hand, "I'm Sam's brother."

"Oh right, Dean. You scared the shit out of me," Castiel said frustrated, eyes wandering back to the bookshelf. The sun broke through the window and rays landed over his toned torso. Dean was sure he saw the man gulp.

"Sorry. I was just freshening up," Dean walked over to his hold-all and dug out some new clothes, keeping one hand holding onto the bath robe, "I'll just change and get out of your way."

"It's fine I'm just getting this book. I'm late for class. No thanks to you," Cas snapped back, stuffing a book into his already full bag.

"Hey dude, it's not my fault you left your book, I apologised for bumping into you," Dean replied.

"Yeah well it didn't exactly help when I was in a rush. You bashed one of my textbooks too. Do you know how expensive those things are? I work two jobs. I have bills to pay. I don't have the funds to be buying new books every time some jerk isn't paying attention when they walk," Castiel ranted, "And your dripping on the floor. It's going to be me having to wipe that all up no doubt."

Dean gritted his teeth agitatedly, gripped his clean underwear and jeans and stomped into the bathroom, closing the door slightly. He undid his towel and hung it round his neck. Then he jumped into the boxers and yanked the jeans up swiftly in one move from ankles to waist. Castiel was shifting books around in his bag when Dean marched out of the bathroom shirtless, took the towel from his neck and started clearing up the water on the floor.

"Happy now princess?" Dean asked, looking up from a crouched position on the floor. His bright eyes begged for Castiel to bark back. Hungry for a fight. Although he was slim Dean could tell that this guy could still throw a decent punch. There was just something about him that aggravated Dean to the point where he could feel his blood boiling and his throat tightening. Everything Castiel said seemed to grind under Dean's skin like sandpaper.

However Castiel simply narrowed his eyes and shook his head tutting. He buckled up his satchel and scooted past Dean to the door.

"Nice to meet you," He said sarcastically, glaring at Dean with venom circulating on his tongue. Dean stood up and started using his foot to drag the towel around the floor.

"I'll make sure the place is cleaned to your standards for when you get back," Dean snarked, mimicking a curtsy. Castiel sighed heavily and stormed out the door with a bang.

_To be continued..._


	2. Something's Changing

The night was warm. Fireflies flickered in the air and the street lamps glowed on the road. It was late. No cars passed by and the streets were empty expect for the trio quietly stumbling along. Sam was walking hand in hand with Jess and Dean staggered on the road a few metres behind them. Dean, of course, was drunk. His fingers still latched on to a bottle of beer as he followed Sam back to the dorm.

Their meal had gone brilliantly. Dean had welcomed Jess with open arms and some sleazy pickup lines to tease his brother. After they'd devoured pizza and spent hours joking and chatting at a local Italian they moved on to the bars. That's when things had gotten messy. Dean had started knocking back double whiskies and the end result now was a very dizzy, queasy Winchester.

"Hold up, Sammy!" Dean hollered, stopping to breath. His stomach felt like a washing machine, turning and churning and spinning his insides. He could feel the puke rising in his throat and the urge to barf intensifying.

"I told you to take it easy dude," Sam replied, stopping and looking over his shoulder.

"I did!" Dean shouted, taking a deep breathe and gulping slowly.

Jess tiptoed back to Dean on her heels, "Come on, Dean. It's not far now I promise." She held out a manicured hand and Dean grasped on, allowing her to tug him down the street back to Sam.

Sam sighed, taking Jess's hand back and watching Dean walk alongside him, "I knew the whisky was a bad idea. You always get far to hammered on whisky."

Dean made an exaggerated expression of disagreement, stumbling into a lamppost, "Excuse you, I can hold my liquor just fine." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I can see that," said Sam sarcastically.

Dean swung around the lamppost, "I am perfectly sober." Jess laughed loudly, holding her hand over her mouth. She linked him arm around Sam's and hugged him close.

"Sam I was thinking," she started, "Why don't I stay in my dorm tonight? You've already got Dean staying. I know Cas is happy enough to let me sleep over some nights, but I think having two guests is pushing it a bit. Don't you think?"

Sam stroked his fingers through the soft strands of her hair, "Sure. You're probably right. Don't wanna take Cas for granted. God, you're always thinking of others aren't you. When did you get to be so perfect?" Jess stood on her toes and pecked Sam on the cheek. Sam looped his long arm around his girlfriends neck casually and kissed the top of her head.

"Dean do you remember where the dorm was?" Sam asked after a moment. Dean was swaying alongside him, grinning dumbly.

"Of course I do. It's just up this road. Can't miss it," Dean smiled, eyes drooping lazily.

"Okay. You sure? The door should be unlocked; Cas normally leaves it like that till I get back," Sam explained.

"Does your '_friend_', Cas, ever do anything interesting with his life? Seems like all he ever does is stay in the room or go to class," Dean mumbled. His words coming out in a jumbled slur.

Sam rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, "He's a good guy, Dean. Be nice to him. I'm just gonna walk Jess home now, won't be more than twenty minutes behind you." Dean nodded. Jess turned to him, wrapped his arms around his waist and said her goodbyes and then the couple disappeared down an avenue shrouded in trees, leaving Dean alone in the amber haze of the street lamps.

Dean muttered to himself as he approached the dorm. Jess was a lovely girl and it melted Dean's heart to see Sam so happy and settled. It was REAL love. Dean could tell. Jess looked at Sam in a way that reminded Dean of his mother; the same gaze of affection swirling in her iris like when Mary had looked at John. Dean had never really witnessed a happy relationship first hand before, apart from that of his mother and father when he was a child. Back then it was all so soft and innocent. He remembered the way his Dad would bury his head in his Mum's hair in the morning at the breakfast table. He recalled her smile in the evenings when his Dad came through the door after a long day at the garage. Just little things. Threads of memories. Never full pictures, more like blurry visions. The older he got the less vivid the images became...

Dean had been in relationships before, of course. Yet they never lasted for long. No one would really actually call them 'relationships' if he was being honest. He was always on the move and he never let himself get his feelings involved. Everything was more like a fling. New town. New motel. New girl. And then a clean slate the minute the Impala wheels rolled on outta there. He kept numbers, for hookups mostly, never for sentimental reasons. Thanks to the excessive drinking he was right back where he'd began the afternoon: feeling lonely and sorry for himself.

He started fumbling with his plaid shirt buttons as he approached Sams door. The dorm was surprisingly silent and Dean was starting to question whether college really was the endless partying experience he'd imagined. When he pushed the door there was a slight resistance so he leaned to his side and bumped his shoulder against the wood with a thud. The door catapulted open and Dean collapsed forward, falling down on his knee.

Castiel shot up from his attempted slumber, staring curiously and irritatedly at the drunken fool on the floor.

"Ah shit," Dean grumbled, kicking the door shut with a bang and sliding along the floor to Sams bed.

"It's 2am. I'm trying to sleep," Cas whispered.

"I know the time jackass," Dean snorted, flipping off his shirt.

"Well then be a bit respectful and be quiet," Castiel replied, his face glaring seriously in the moonlight. He looked almost ethereal in the white light. The blue in his eyes bolting out like electric volts, piercing into Dean. But they were SO blue. Like Hawaiian waters blue. The most intense shade Dean had ever seen. Truly mesmerising. After a minute Dean shook his fuzzy head and started to untie his boots.

"I didn't _mean _to wake you, I'm sorry," Dean slurred.

Castiel stood up out of the bed, "Well you did." Dean peered up at him. He had a baggy, off-white t-shirt on and an extra long pair of pyjama bottoms, the dark fabric trailing on the floor and gathering in folds at his ankles. He walked past Dean to the bathroom and Dean heard the hum of the light that was turned on. The distinct sound of running water came next and then it was gone and the light went out and Cas emerged from the black hollow of the doorway with a glass.

"Here. You'll need lots of water," he said quickly while he handed Dean the glass. Dean looked from the glass to Castiel baffled by the gesture.

"Uh.. Thanks," Dean mumbled, sipping silently at the water. It was already helping clear his headache. He set the glass on Sam's bookshelf, stood up and unbuckled his belt while Castiel climbed back into bed.

"Are you sleeping in Sam's bed?" Cas asked as he slipped under the comfort of the duvet. Dean pulled down his trousers, stumbling as he tugged his legs out.

"Oh, I didn't think about that. Sam will be back soon. He'll need his bed," he said, scooping up his trousers from the floor and laying them in the corner by the bed, standing in his boxer briefs and t-shirt.

"I'll just sleep on the floor," Dean said after a seconds thought.

"The floor?" Cas rested his head deep in his pillow, "Won't that be uncomfortable?"

"I can stack some pillows on the ground and there are blankets too. I've done it before without all the cushioning," Dean explained.

"The floors wood. It will be far too hard.." Castiel murmured wonderingly, "I have quite a large bed. Much bigger than Sam's. I could move along I suppose. We could top and tail."

"Really? I don't mind the floor," Dean swayed on his feet. He felt like he was balancing on a surfboard, each minor shuffle tipping his body into disarray. Cursed with disorientation he stepped forward, steadying his hand on Castiel's bookshelf.

Cas turned in his bed, "The offer is there." Dean raised his eyebrows confused. Castiel hadn't even given him the time of day and suddenly he was being hospitable. He leaned his elbow on a shelf and watched Castiel, curled up in a ball, dark hair contrasting against the the white blankets and feather pillows. Something was different between them.

"You getting in or not?" Cas asked abruptly. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sure. I suppose," he replied. Cas put his arm behind and took one of the spare pillows and threw it down the bed to the guest.

"I top. You tail," Cas said dryly. Dean chuckled as he climbed onto the mattress.

"Well normally I '_top_', but I guess for this one time," he snorted.

Castiel punched his pillow and shuffled further away from Dean towards the edge of the bed as though he was riddled with insects, "Not funny." Dean went silent. He pulled some of the duvet over his body and lay facing the wall, away from the other man's feet.

"You better not steal the duvet in the night," Castiel whispered.

"I won't. Scouts honour," Dean replied. Smiling when he heard the faint sound of hushed giggling. Perhaps he could thaw Castiel's icy nature after all.

* * *

Cas stirred awake before his alarm as always and hit the button to reset it. A beam of light streamed out of the crack in the curtains, landing on the white folds of his duvet. Little dust specs floated in the air like millions of stars. He sighed. The morning felt lazy and dreamlike. For a few minutes he was certain he would fall back asleep. Though eventually he regained some energy and got out of bed, his hair flicking up wild and matted. With a yawn he rubbed his fist against his eyes, then he pulled back the curtains.

Sam was sleeping soundly in his bed and Dean was still snoring, buried under the duvet. Cas turned and stared at him. He was handsome. There was no denying it. Undoubtedly the girls would fall over themselves to have him. He had that beautiful jawline everyone listed for and plump, perky lips. His eyes were closed shut and a fan of long lashes cast shadows over his cheeks. Castiel felt a sudden flutter in the pit of his stomach. A tingle of desire. He stepped closer and tucked the duvet tighter around Dean's body, smoothing his hand over the fabric. Part of Cas was intrigued by this guy; past all his snarky comments and jackass jokes was a glimmer of something deeper.

After a moment Cas combed down his hair and changed into a smart shirt and trousers. Class started in about an hour and it had become his daily ritual to stop for a coffee to read through his English notes beforehand. He walked over to Sams bookshelf, took the untouched glass of water Dean had left and then moved back to pour it carefully over his potted plant, the water trickling through the leaves into the dirt.

Cas only had one trench coat which he wore regardless of season or weather; it was hanging on a hanger on the back of the door and he slung it on. Striding on his way to the door he picked up his bag. It was heavy on his shoulder due to the weight of his textbooks. The strap was worn from rubbing against his coat every day and the leather had a tired, cracked appearance. He took some change that was sitting on top of his bookshelf then disappeared out of the door, closing it slowly.

As he walked out of the dorm onto the cobbles he heard the clapping of heels on the stony path behind him.

"Cas!" a voice called. Cas shielded his eyes from the sunshine. Coming out of the hazy, blue horizon was the shape of a woman.

"Meg?" Cas narrowed his eyes to see clearer.

"Duh! Come here you little unicorn!" Meg skipped up to Cas and flung her arms around his neck, swinging her body round him. Her tight, leather skirt rode up her thighs in the process. Cas could barely catch his breath when she finally released him.

"Meg your skirt!" Cas panted. Meg snorted and tugged the fabric down a few inches.

"What you been up to squirt? Feel like I haven't seen you for days," Meg grinned, linking arms with Cas, pulling him into a quick, jolly walk.

"Been studying. Got an exam coming up," Cas explained, "You know it's far too early in the day for you to be wearing clothes like that."

Meg flicked her long, brown hair with her hand, "Someone has got to keep the male species excited."

"I suppose. How's your Art classes coming along," Cas asked.

"Really good. My teacher wants me to think about exhibiting some of the work in a gallery show at the end of summer."

Castiel stopped walking, "Are you serious? That's amazing Meg! I'm so proud of you!"

Meg paused, curling her hair around her finger, "Aw thanks Cassy. Wuv you."

"Love you too my little demon. But don't call me Cassy, you know I hate it," Cas laughed and elbowed Meg playfully.

"You'll always be Cassy to me," she nudged him back, "Now let's go for coffee. I know how you love a nice hot drink to kick start your day. Plus then you can tell me about all the guys you've been sleeping with." Meg winked. Cas shook his head with amusement.

"I've not been 'sleeping' with anyone," he started walking again, "Well, not in the way your implying. I did share my bed with Sam's brother last night, but that was nothing."

Meg skipped to catch up, "Sam's brother? Ooh, tell me more."

"Don't get any ideas. He's a real ladies man. His name's Dean. He's just visiting for a little while. Sam took him out last night and he got too drunk so I offered him a space in my bed. Nothing happened," said Cas.

"But you wanted something to happen," Meg jeered.

"No. He's an ass. Loves himself too much."

"Liar. I bet you wanted to get down and dirty with him. If he looks anything like Sam I'm sure he'd taste a treat. I might even have a go if your not interested," teased Meg.

"Shut up," Cas wrapped his arm around Meg's head and rubbed his fist on her scalp to cause friction.

"Quit it! I just did my hair," Meg spat, wriggling free and jogging ahead, her cackling laughter riding on the breeze.

"I swear if I come back to my room and catch you two at it in my bed you can buy me new sheets," Cas laughed. Although it was true that Meg and Dean would probably be a good match. They were very much alike in more ways than one.

"Hey, if you've called dibs then you can have him. I don't wanna see a jealous Cassy."

Cas quickened his pace, "I'm not jealous."

Meg danced around him, skipping and twirling in the sunshine, "Oh my god, you actually like him."

"Don't be stupid."

"You do! You're totally falling for him. You're blushing. Cassy and Dean. Dassy!" Meg burst into a fit of snorted giggles.

"Let it go. It's not happening," Cas took a deep breath, placing the back of his hands against his red hot cheeks. What Meg was suggesting was insane. Dean was the exact opposite of everything Cas envisaged in a partner. He wasn't educated. He didn't have polite mannerisms. He swore. He drank. A lot. He wasn't even gay. The whole package just didn't sit right under Castiels's tree of perfect partner parcels.

They turned the corner and came up to a small bistro nestled next to a large oak tree, it's red bricks coated in bright green ivy. There was seating outside and a young barista was busy opening up red and white parasols that stuck out of the picnic tables when they approached.

"Hey, Cas, nice to see you again," the barista waved.

"Morning, Eve," Cas tipped his head in acknowledgement. Meg ran ahead a few steps and opened the door to the bistro.

"My lady," Meg bowed while she held the door. Castiel smiled thankfully as he walked inside, thinking back to the little curtsey Dean did yesterday.

Cas watched through the window as Eve popped up the last parasol and then hopped back behind the counter indoors. Meg was bunched up beside Cas snuggling into his coat tails.

"What can I get you both?" Eve asked pleasantly.

"Oh, um one coffee please and.. Meg?" He turned round to his friend.

"Do you guys have anything stronger than coffee?" She asked with a smirk. Cas stared at her in disbelief. Meg was definitely rough around the edges.

Eve simply grinned, "I wish."

"I'm just kidding, a cappuccino for me please," she said.

Cas handed over the money. Eve told them to sit where they liked and that she would bring the drinks once they were prepared. The friends thanked her and moved outside to sit under one of the parasols.

"Eve's a nice girl. Ever thought about switching back to girls?" said Meg out of the blue. She never really had a filter and Castiel kinda liked her that way. The one chaotic thing in his very organised life.

"Nah. She's a lovely person but not for me. You know by now Meg," Cas replied. He looked back inside at Eve. She had straight blonde hair hanging in a ponytail and a pair of pearl studs in her ears. They shared similar blue eyes, though her's were a lighter, cooler shade compared to his own. She was slim and an ideal model height. He had always thought she was a very pretty girl but he didn't see her in any other way other than friends. Same with all the girls he knew.

Not many people were aware of Castiel's sexuality. The only person he really talked to it about was Meg. They'd bonded on the college induction day and been firm friends ever since. Both were kind of outsiders to begin with. Meg the wild, out-spoken nutjob and Castiel the awkward, reserved student. They'd connected in their loneliness. Now however Cas was quite well known around campus, thanks to Sam.

Of course when Sam Winchester came to Stanford he was instantly a hit with everyone. Charismatic, cool and attractive; Sam obviously turned head. Cas had been terrified that rooming with the infamous Sam was going to be awkward and he pretty much saw himself fading into the crowd over the course of the fall semester. Yet what happened couldn't have been further from what he imagined.

Sam was warm and inviting unlike many of the other 'popular' kids. He always made time for anyone. There was just an innate ability within him that made Cas feel instantly comfortable. Those brown, puppy dog eyes easing any nerves. And during the first few weeks of the term Sam ensured that Cas, and whomever he wanted to bring, was on the invite list to every major party. In those few short weeks Castiel went from a nobody to a somebody and gained Sam as a close friend in the process.

"Here are your drinks," Eve chirped, reeling Cas back from his drifting thoughts.

"Thankyou," Cas said quietly, his mind still in overdrive. Eve placed a tray down on the edge of the table and then disappeared back inside. Cas cupped his hands around the mug with the coffee inside and sipped. He made a satisfied sigh as the hot liquid rushed down his throat. The mug was returned to its coaster and Cas turned it slightly so that the handle was horizontal with the tray.

Meg gulped her drink quickly then stopped for air, "So what are you going to do about Dean?"

"About him? Nothing. He'll probably be gone by the end of the week anyway," Cas said, a tinge of sadness on his voice.

Meg put her drink to the side to enclose her hands over Cas's, "Cassy, my doll, you have to act on your feelings while you have the chance."

"Dean's not interested Meg. He's not even my type," Cas pulled his hands away and sat them on his lap, "Please can we just talk about something else, like your art exhibition maybe?"

Meg relaxed back in her chair and kicked her feet up onto the table, "Well if you insist. But you can't ignore your feelings. Say what you like. I can tell you like him."

Cas rolled his eyes. Nonsense. There was no way. It just.. It wouldn't happen. Dean was **Dean**. Pretty much Cas's opposite. Plus he had known him for almost a day and the majority of the time Dean grated on his nerves. There were no feelings. There couldn't be... Could there? Last night Cas had felt something. The loathing dissolving and another emotion creeping into its place. Perhaps it was true; there was a thin line between love and hate.

_To be continued.._


	3. Understanding

Cas strolled through the campus in the glimmer of the sun after lunchtime. The chatter of students surrounded him. There was something invigorating about having a walk by himself; just him and his thoughts. Drifting. People could talk around him but he wouldn't hear a thing. Immersed in his own mind. Perfect solitude. The way he liked it. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

His lecture had passed quick. Him trying to write notes and being distracted by Meg's words from earlier. It was too difficult to stay enthused by his ageing professor while he was running his friends sentences through his head. Over and over. Till they were imprinted like Shakespeare quotes in his cranium. Soon the lined pages of his notebook had dwindled away to blanks. He'd left the lecture hall feeling more unproductive and confused than ever.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and inhaled the summery scent that infused the area. The intense, sweet smell of freshly cut grass filling his nostrils. He loved that smell the most and how the lawn felt under his fingertips after it was trimmed. Filled with a sudden want to run his hands through the grassy blades Cas manoeuvred through the people to a safe spot by a tree.

Sinking to the ground he rested his back on the bark and sat patting his palms against the green earth. The sky was tattooed with flecks of white clouds and a flock of birds made synchronised dives above him. He could have lay indulging in the greenery, contemplating life and being deep in thought for hours, if the fates had let him, but as it happened a ball rolled up the grass bumping his leg, dislodging him from the scenic peace.

"Castiel?"

Cas blinked and looked up at Dean who was making little panting sounds and standing with his hands on his hips staring at him. He wore a plain, white t-shirt that turned almost see-through in the light and Cas could see the definition of his upper body; the curve of his torso and the ridges where his muscles protruded. His jeans were ripped and there was one particular tear in the fabric near the pocket that exposed the grey of his boxers.

"Oh, hello Dean," Cas mumbled, averting his eyes from the crotch area.

Dean scooped up the ball, making direct eye contact as he bowed down, "What are you doing sitting here alone?"

"I like it. It's peaceful." He peered past Dean's body, noticing Sam and Jess in the distance sunbathing on a tartan rug.

"Well, uh, why don't you come join us?" Dean asked, "I, er, wanted to thank you for last night. I don't remember much but I know you let me use your bed so thanks."

"It's fine. Don't mention it," Cas muttered, pushing a strand of hair from his face. He couldn't help staring at Dean's muscular form beyond the almost transparent shirt fabric. There was sweat dampening his forehead and Dean swiped the back of his hand over it casually.

"So how 'bout it? We have sandwiches," he indicated behind him, his eyebrow curling. Cas noted how expressive and defined Dean's eyebrows were, the way they arched and curved and squished together with each animated expression.

"Uh," he ran a hand through his hair, twisting his fingers around his sideburns, "Sure. If it's okay with Sam and Jess.."

Dean tucked the ball under his arm and held out his free hand, "Dude, they love you more than they love me. It's cool."

Cas grazed his hand over his trousers quickly to remove any sweatiness in his palms and took Dean's hand. He was pulled up instantly with a such force that it knocked his balance. Dean literally lifting him into the the air. As he landed down again Dean released his hand and Cas's feet scuffed against the roots of the tree. He slid back. His legs kicking up into the sky. He was certain he was about to be flat out on his ass but then Dean's hand swooped round and latched onto his waist. Cas's mouth gaped as he lurched back up, knocking right into Dean's chest.

The air suddenly felt dense and suffocating. Cas tipped his head up and his eyes met Dean's. They were glazed over and fixated on Cas. The greens of his iris's flashing like traffic lights. Both of them were speechless with their mouths hanging open, making shocked, sharp inhales and exhales. Cas could feel Dean's fingers clinging onto his body. After a moment they were still hovered there. He _really_ felt it; the weight of Dean's warm palm buried in the space above his hips where his waist curved inward slightly. His whole body reeled into Dean's, with Dean's arm wrapped around him and Cas leaning into his hold. His hands were both pressed tightly against Dean's pecs, nails digging in sharply. He could feel the hot waves of Dean's breath blowing against the bridge of his nose. He deliberated how long was _too_ long to keep standing in this position before things got awkward but every time he tried to pull away he found his legs wouldn't budge. Cas gulped, slicking his lips with the tip of his tongue anxiously. Everything was dry. Ever so gently he lifted his nails off Dean.

Dean batted his lashes. His hand faltered away from Cas's waist and they separated, Cas eyeing the ground behind him as he stepped back.

"That was er, close...You were almost on your ass," Dean said.

"Yeah.. Thanks.." Cas murmured. His words felt lost, his throat parched and dusty. Blood pressure rocketing. He couldn't even muster the ability to moisten his mouth, as though Dean had dried him out. His body felt transfixed. Head dazed and a million thoughts cramming in all at once. What was happening to him?

"Well. Let's get over for lunch? I'm starving," Dean said, backing away.

"Okay," Cas mumbled. His body sparked into action, eager to follow Dean. To be near him. He turned swiftly and picked up his bag. The heaviness dragging his light, airy mind back to reality.

He jogged a few steps after Dean so that he could walk alongside him but Dean kept a quick pace. Cas held his hand onto his bag and tried to keep up. His black shoes scuffing through the grass. When he got close enough to see the side of Dean's face Dean threw the ball on the grass and started running, kicking the ball forward. Cas's eyes dropped. Heart sinking. Goofy smile faltering. Why? He didn't know. He didn't understand why he felt so rejected. Somehow he thought there had just been something... Some kind of connection. Was he wrong?

When Cas finally approached the picnic blanket Dean was sitting down, using the ball as seat. Jess was resting on her front, leaning on her elbows and when the shadowy shape of his body loomed over her she peeked up over her sunglasses.

"Cas!" She immediately shot up and embraced him, "Oh my god hey! I'm so glad you're here. Finally someone I can have a proper conversation with that doesn't involve grunts." She kicked her foot at Sam's side and he grunted back. He was lying on his back, hair cascading out on the rug, obviously trying to catch up on some sleep after last night.

Cas shyly weaselled out of her hug, "Are you sure it's okay I join? I don't want to intrude if you guys are having a 'date' thing. Dean said-"

"I said he could have some food with us. Kinda of a thank you for letting me crash," Dean interjected. He reached down and dug his hands through the picnic bag, retrieving a large sub sandwich with bacon dangling out at the edges.

"Yeah 'course it's okay. Sit. We have plenty," Jess dropped back on the rug, tucking her knees up to her chest smiling.

Cas lowered down, "Thats very kind if you. I can't stay long unfortunately though; I have work in an hour."

Jess dragged the picnic bag so that it slumped in front of Castiel, "Aw that's a shame. Is it a long shift?" Cas nodded.

He'd been working at the gas station for almost the entire year now. It was usually more of a nighttime kind of situation. Less busy that way. More time for himself. He'd planned it purposefully that way so that his day times were free for studying or lectures. Plus when it was quiet, which was the majority of the time, he had a chance to read while he worked. One of his other colleagues had asked at the start of the week if Cas could take her shift, so today he was working from the afternoon till after midnight. But he didn't mind. He had another part time job on the weekend mornings too, some light cleaning at one of the college bars. It was more of a recent gig, cash in hand sort of thing, just to help a bit more with student fees.

Dean was devouring his sandwich like it was his last meal, sloppily munching on the bacon, making excessive sounds of delight. Cas watched him. The way his tongue darted around his mouth, wetting his chops and licking his fingers, his lips full and pushed out as he chewed. So juicy and plump and wet. Imagining them pressed firmly on his-

"There's loads of sandwiches in there Cas. Don't by shy," Jess chirped. She was slurping orange juice from a carton, looking contently at him.

Cas flushed red, praying Jess hadn't caught him staring at Dean, "Okay. Thanks.."

He pulled out a ham and cheese baguette and started to chew. The baguette was extra crispy and burnt at the edges, just how he liked it. As he swallowed he couldn't help his eyes wandering back to Dean. The sunshine gracing his face perfectly, highlighting his freckles.

"You okay, dude?" Dean said and Cas blinked.

"Um yeah I'm fine," Cas fidgeted awkwardly, turning his face away while he bit into his food.

"So what do you study anyway?" Dean asked, mouth full with crispy bacon as he talked.

Cas held out his hand as a polite indication till he finished munching, "English Literature. And, er, what do you do Dean? Professionally I mean."

Dean laughed lowly, "I'm a bit of a drifter. Pick up work here and there. Mostly cars."

"Nothing permanent?" Cas asked, intrigued by the laid-back lifestyle and attitude Dean had. He could never be so unstructured. Cas planned everything meticulously.

"Nah. It's more fun just taking off. Bit more adventurous than books," Dean kicked his boot against Cas's book bag. A book slid out and landed on the rug.

"Books can be adventurous," Cas said with a sigh, slipping the book back in his bag.

Dean held up his hands smirking, "Sorry, I forgot how uptight you were about your books."

"I'm not upright," Cas frowned.

"Well you pretty much barked my head off last time I knocked a book from your hands," Dean recalled, rolling his eyes.

"You should have been looking where you were going. Plus those books are expensive. Some of us have to work hard for stuff. It's not like we can all just take off in our cars and see where the road takes us," Cas muttered.

"Cool it princess," Dean grunted. His tone getting sharper.

"I'm not a princess," Cas replied, getting gradually more and more wound up. All his romantic thoughts unravelling in an instant.

"Sure you are. A tightly-wound princess who gets her knickers in a twist when a book falls out of place," Dean mocked, chewing from the side of his mouth wickedly.

"Dean, enough," Jess soothed her hand on Dean's shoulder.

"You don't know me," Cas snapped.

"Whooah. Calm down Cassy, sounds like someone's got their girlies coming on."

Cas threw his baguette down, "Do not call me Cassy. I'm not a girl."

"You seem a bit girly to me," Dean growled back. He was loving that he could get Castiel riled like this, the way his face blushed red and eyes sharpened down. It was... Cute.

"God your such an ass!" Cas yelled, sitting up, closer to Dean. Fury masking his eyes. There was an intense energy pulsing between the two. Sam was beginning to stir awake now because of all the commotion and Jess was tucked against him gobsmacked. People were starting to stare over.

"Yeah well at least I don't take it up the ass!" Dean barked, leaning forward to square up. Heaving in a heavy breath to make his chest seem larger. Cas gasped and sat back. There was nothing he could say in counteraction. A pang of hurt spiralled through him, like a spear had just sunk into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. The viciousness of Dean's words stabbing him, reminding him of his childhood and the bullies he'd faced. Now he could feel tears building up and he bit his lip to try and keep them from running down his face. He was embarrassed enough.

Dean gulped. Eyes flickering nervously. He knew he'd messed up. Gone too far. He could see it in Castiel's eyes. The prickle of tears at the corners of his lashes. The sunken glaze of sadness.

"Castiel.. I'm.. Uh..." Dean stammered, struggling to look at him, "I didn't mean-"

"Whatever," Cas said, feeling so suddenly low. His body felt heavy. Like he was strapped to stones and being pulled underwater. Eyes getting gradually more and more wet. Throat clasping close, stinging with every breathe. Choking. Struggling.

"I never meant it.. I'm sorry man," Dean mumbled, reaching a hand out to pat Cas's shoulder. Cas shifted away, turning his head, determined not to cry in front of everyone.

He narrowed his gaze and snatched at a his satchel, "Just fuck off." Jess frowned and rested her manicured hand on Cas's knee.

"Cas, hunny, you okay?" She said softly.

He almost cried. In that moment, when she touched him, he could have crumbled, unloaded all his pent up frustration. The tears forming quickly. His head was all frizzy with emotion and his heart was hammering at his rib cage. But he held it in, sniffed back the emotion and let his hair flop over his eyes to masquerade the redness.

"I'm okay Jess," he managed to say through quivering lips.

Cas got to his feet solemnly, bag slung on his shoulder. Jess was looking up at him like a lost puppy - head tilted with concern and big, round eyes peering into his conflicted heart. Dean was trying to ignore him. His head buried down awkwardly; fingers flicking over the blades of grass by his side, popping the heads off of daisies with his thumb. He looked apologetic. If his face were a canvas it would have the word regret painted across it in bright red to match the shade of his shamed cheeks. Cas shook his fuzzy mind, all clogged up with sadness and disappointment, turned on his heels and without word sulked off into the busy campus grounds.

The crowd consumed him. An exasperated sigh broke from his mouth. The tension in his shoulders unravelling. He was about to bask in the relief of being a nobody swimming in a sea of strangers when he felt a firm tap on his back.

"Castiel.."

Dean. His distinctive gruff voice stirring the pot of turmoil in Cas's stomach all over again. Cas half turned, flicking his head up and his hair tossed to the side exposing his bloodshot eyes. Dean bit his lip.

"I'm.. I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to offend-"

Cas cut him off, "Dean I don't care. The problem with people like you is that you don't understand. You don't realise how your words, and the way you say them, can affect people like me. It's so easy for you. You swan around like you don't give a damn hurling insults. It doesn't make you a big man. It makes you a dickhead." When he finished Cas gulped, wincing in fear and trembling on the spot. Now _he_ had gone too far. He was half expecting a fist to connect with his jaw but the hit never came.

Instead Dean carefully looked up from under his narrowed eyebrows and whispered, "Believe me.. I understand."

"Huh?" Cas doubled back confused.

Dean launched, snatching at the collar of Cas's coat and drawing him in. Cas flew forward petrified as Dean's fist roughly pulled the fabric in the air and Cas was dragged up so that his panicked eyes stared directly into Dean's. The green of his iris so vivid and alerting. Cas's blood was stampeding through his veins, pummelling into his heart, face burning red. He wanted to shout and break free from the grasp but his knees had turned to jelly, all gangly and useless beneath him. It felt like he'd been tranquillised and Dean's strong, vice hold was the only thing keeping him standing. Dean slicked his lips and leaned forward more, so that his stubble grazed against Cas's smooth jaw and his mouth breathed onto the shorter mans twitching, hot ear. Cas's breath hitched as he felt the slight wetness of Dean's lips brush his earlobe. All the other sounds around faded out and his hearing zoned in on Dean's voice alone.  
"I said," Dean whispered, his voice golden and thick like treacle,".. I said I _understand_."

Cas felt a fever of lust flush through his body. A tingle that swarmed from his ear down through his body, burning like a warm coal in the pit of his stomach. What was Dean hinting at? He couldn't mean...

"I... Dean.." Cas's words stumbled out of his mouth. A group of preppy girls watched curiously over at the two men. People were stopping to look at them. The intimacy drawing attention.

Dean fluttered his eyelashes nervously and loosened his grip on Cas's trench coat embarrassed, "Just forget it okay."

"But Dean-" he swayed forward on his tiptoes into Dean.

"Get away from me," Dean suddenly blurted, shoving Cas with his large hand, storming past toward the group of girls. Cas wheezed sadly. He felt the tears really swell this time and they began trickling out of the sides of his eyes. His throat getting all twisted and scratchy. He balled up his fists and started to walk quickly into the crowd, dropping his head humiliated. When he glanced back Dean was already chatting up a skinny, blonde bimbo. Flicking a tear from his cheek with his finger Cas retreated to his room alone.

_To be continued..._


	4. The Day At The Beach

The sun was beating down against the Impala as Dean careened through the campus. AC-DC was vibrating through the steering wheel and into his fingers.

"Dean turn the music down a tad," Sam hollered from the backseat where he and Jess were cuddling with a flowery, Hawaiian beach towel lying over their laps.

"It's such a perfect day for the beach," Lisa smiled, her dark locks shining in the light. Dean nodded and grinned at the woman sitting at his side. She was a friend of Jess's and Dean was more than keen for her to join them on their little day trip when he'd caught sight of her tight denim shorts and how they hugged her ass.

"So you mentioned your very _fit_?" Dean grinned at Lisa, relaxing his arm on the open window to look cool.

"Yeah, I do tones of yoga and stuff," Lisa replied, curling her hair around her finger teasingly.

"You'd be brilliant at yoga," Sam winked at Jess sarcastically.

"Shut it you!" Jess flung her arms in the air shrieking and began poking Sam in the ribs. He tried to weasel away, squirming on the spot and hollering with both pain and laughter. Unmercifully he retaliated by nipping at her knees; her indefinite weak spot. She thrashed around crying out till he finally wrapped his arms around her and smothered her giggles with a hug.

"I'd like to see Jess practicing some yoga too if you don't mind," Dean cheekily added.

Sam leant forward and clipped Dean's ear disapprovingly, "Dude, really?"

Dean smirked, "Just kidding."

"So how long are you here for?" Lisa asked after the laughter subsided.

"Not sure. Maybe a few more days. Maybe a week. I can't stay with Sam forever though so I'm not sure. There's not much going at the moment in my, uh, field of work," Dean replied. He caught a glimpse of Sam's uncomfortable expression. Sam didn't like discussing hunting. That life wasn't for him anymore and Dean knew his brother was desperate for him to escape the calling too. Conversations about hunting always carried a tinge of pain and regret and guilt with them so it was best avoided altogether.

"Well let's hope you're staying a little longer, still many sights to see, I'd be happy to give you a private tour," Lisa flirted. Sam rolled his eyes from the behind. Dean raised his eyebrows intrigued.

"Sure. That sounds nice," He nodded.

"Hey, isn't that Cas?" Jess gasped. Dean felt his stomach flip instantly. Cas... He hadn't spoken to him at all following their conversation. When he'd returned to the room after an evening of drowning away his guilt Castiel was turned over with the duvet hiding his face. Throughout the night Dean was certain he'd heard small sniffles. It tore his heart. As the moon travelled across the night sky Dean had lain awake pondering what to do or how to act. Yet Castiel had been gone when he stretched awake in the early hours after barely any sleep. And now his heart was pounding like a washing machine, flipping and hurling his anxiety around in the drum.

Sam stretched over and turned down the music, "Where is he?"

"Right there! Coming out of the lecture hall." Jess pointed out the window and sure enough Cas was there, books tucked in his two arms tight against his chest, trench coat tails flailing in the summer breeze as he weaved in and out of people toward the road. Dean stopped the car up by the path and Jess rolled down the window and stuck her head out.

"Cas!" She yelled, waving both her arms to get his attention. He looked up from the ground at them like a deer caught in the headlights; a jumble of confusion and shyness. Timidly he approached the car hugging his books like his life depended on it.

"Hi Jess," he waved meekly, nodding at the others in the car, including Dean who was burying his face into his hand, trying to appear unfazed.

"We're just heading to the beach, do you fancy coming?" Jess suddenly blurted out cheerfully. Dean inhaled sharply. If Cas came, if he said anything about their talk... Dean couldn't bear to think about it. He wasn't even sure what he'd meant by the little chat yesterday. His feelings were a cocktail of confusion. All he knew was that there was a connection, a spark, that he'd never felt before with another person. Castiel did something to Dean that he couldn't explain; his head turning to mush and feeling like his heart was about to shoot out of his mouth into his trembling hands.

"Er.. I have a class. I really shouldn't," Cas shook his head.

Jess jumped up on her knees hanging further out the car, making her boobs pop even larger in her white bikini top, "Oh, come on! You never do anything exciting Cas, come with. We're going to go swimming and make sandcastle and everything."

Cas glanced at the drivers seat eying Dean wonderingly. Dean stared back, lips parting slightly, the whites of his teeth showing. By the way his forehead creased Dean could tell Cas was trying to figure him out. Mind boggling behind his striking blue eyes.

"Uh.. Okay. I'll tag along, if you're sure," he eventually said. Dean swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing with the heavy gulp.

Jess opened the car door and slid along so Cas had space to scoot into the backseat too. He bowed his head and shimmied into the car, sitting his books on his lap and closing the door. Jess was smiling from ear to ear, leaning lovingly into Sam's white t-shirt.

"When you guys are ready?" Dean muttered.

Cas relaxed in the leather seat, clicking his belt around his coat, "Ready."

"Well 'bout time," Dean humphed, pressing his foot down on the accelerator and guiding the car towards the coast. He flicked his finger over the volume button and rock music echoed loudly out of the speakers once again.

"Oh Cas, this is Lisa by the way," Jess explained, indicating to the extra passenger in the front. Cas smiled at her and she smiled back. Dean coughed and reached his hand over, resting his palm on Lisa's knee. Lisa looked at him, alerted. She was wearing tight, denim shorts and his fingers lay on her bare flesh. He winked at her. Her smile curled and she began running her fingers over Dean's knuckles. By peering up at the rear view mirror Dean had the best angle to watch Cas and caught him fidgeting awkwardly, trying to look anywhere else, but his eyes fixated on the gesture regardless of how hard he fought. Perfect.

They drove soaking in the sunshine and song lyrics. Dean bobbed his head to every tune while Cas started gazing out the window at the scenery and Dean checked on him constantly in the mirror. Lisa still had her fingers trailing over his hand but he let it fall back to the wheel when he realised Cas had lost interest in their affectionate display. She frowned slightly so he smiled at her to keep her sweet. She blushed and began adjusting her hair.

Dean looked in the mirror again, analysing Cas in the moment; the way the sun flares through the trees captured the oceans in his eyes, how the dark tassels of his hair waved from the open window breeze, the settling sight of his resting smile that caused an uplifting sensation in Dean's stomach, like a hot air balloon rising into the pink sky.

Cas was so different. Far from the usual burly hunters Dean was accustomed to conversing with and slutty barmaids he romanced. He was hard work and, for some bizarre reason, Dean was trilled by the challenge. It didn't make sense. Dean had never felt any sexual longing for another man before. He was strictly female only and there was a long list of previous lovers who could vouch for him; yet there was a strange, unfamiliar feeling building inside him for Cas... He couldn't explain it. He breathed deeply and tried to focus on the road, desperate to lose himself in the music and ignore his thoughts.

"Here it is!" Sam called out after a while as the Impala curved into a sandy, empty carpark. A cloud of dust like a nuclear explosion floated round the car as it skidded to a halt right in front of the grassy sand dunes. To the left there was a group of white wooden beach shacks for changing in. Except there was no one else around to use them.

"I thought it would be busier," Jess frowned, slumping back.

"I'm pretty sure there was an exam today. Perhaps that's why no one is around," Lisa said, sitting forward and peering out the windscreen.

"I like that it's quiet," Cas added, "More peaceful."

"Suppose your right," Jess shrugged, "Well, let's get going!"

They all clambered out of the car, collecting up towels and bags. Sam slung an arm around Jess and they walked toward the ocean in sync with the smacking sound of flip flops following them. Lisa tailed behind, walking purposely slower so that she could capture Dean's attention with the sway of her hips. Cas left his books and such in the back of the Impala and was shedding his trench coat at the boot of the car. Thankfully today he had opted to wear a casual black round neck t-shirt and dark jeans instead of his usual pressed, white shirt and straight trousers so he felt more relaxed. He was folding up his coat and placing it in the boot when Dean appeared beside him.

"Oh, hello," Cas said, moving away from the car.

"Hola," Dean replied smoothly as he closed the boot down and shifted round to lock the car. Cas started walking silently after the others, sunshine hammering down on his back, the blackness of his clothes absorbing the rays. Dean buried his car keys in his jean pocket and skipped after him.

"So.. Uh yesterday I was a major ass so er just forget about all the shit I said," Dean mumbled, messing his hand in his spiked hair.

Cas looked intently at him, "_All_ of it?"

"Yeah. Let's just not talk about it, okay buddy?"

Cas winced. He hated being referred to as someone's '_buddy_' or '_mate_'; he found it very condescending.

"Fine. I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what? There's nothing to tell. We had a row. That's it," Dean stated, kicking his leather boots in the sand.

"Sure. But the stuff afterwards," Cas whispered, "I think you know what I'm getting at.."

"I don't."

Silence. No response. Dean's chest tightened. If he just put Cas off enough maybe they could move on. Forget it every happened. He kept his eyes focussed on the ground, watching the sand grains topple over each other whenever he broke their stillness with a footstep. Eventually some gulls cawed in the sky. The crashing crescendo of waves getting louder. As they both dipped over a sandy bank the horizon unfolded for them; a watery skyline and shore beckoning footprints to mark the untouched landscape.

In the distance Jess, Sam and Lisa were already folding out towels and unloading the beach bags onto the sand. Out in the open the wind was slightly stronger and Cas's hair flopped up, dancing in the gusts. He tried flattening it down but the wind was persistent and it tossed his hair like a salad. Giving up he chuckled and kicked off his shoes, pausing for balance to peel his socks down so he could walk bare foot across the hot sand. Dean stopped too and stared at him. A smirk teased onto his face when Cas wobbled exaggeratedly mid sock removal.

"I can see you laughing," Cas remarked, a goofy smile plastered on his face as his feet touched down on the sand.

"I wasn't laughing," Dean sneered. Cas bounced up, shoes hooked in his fingers. He was relishing in the sensation of warm sand burying in between his toes. They walked almost shoulder to shoulder toward the others. Neither said a word. Just content to trudge quietly. It was weirdly calming. The crisp smell of sea salt lingering in the air.

"Finally! What took you two so long?" Jess sighed when the boys approached. Dean and Cas looked at each other, then at Jess and shrugged. She was sitting up with her legs crossed having Sam rub sun tan lotion across her back. Lisa was perched on the edge of the towel stupidly staring at Dean when he collapsed on the ground.

"Anyway I was thinking we could go swimming," Sam suggested, smearing the white lotion down Jess's shoulders as she nodded enthusiastically.

"I didn't bring any shorts," Cas mumbled awkwardly. He sat down next to Jess and kicked out his legs onto the towel.

"How 'bout skinny dipping?" Dean hollered. Lisa lapped it up and broke into a fit of forced, girly giggles. She fluttered her eyelashes, which Cas instinctively thought looked like spiders hairy legs on her face. He rolled his eyes unimpressed.

"I think I'll just sit here thanks," Cas snorted. Dean ignored the sarky remark and inched closer to Lisa.

"We don't have to swim. Let's do something we can all be involved in. Like a sandcastle competition or a game of soccer?" Jess unfolded a pair of yellow sunglasses and put them on.

"Sure, I'm up for a game," Sam pecked her cheek from behind. His legs were open wide and bent and Jess was perched in between them using his knees as arm rests. Dean watched them. They made a nice couple. He noticed the loving gestures they made and it made him hopeful for his own future, even if his current love life was lacking. At least Sam was happy. That's all that counted.

Plus he could maybe attempt to build a bond with Lisa. In the back of his mind a little voice whined. He should aim higher. Lisa was exactly the kind of girl Dean went for all time. Pretty. Ditsy. Keen. Nothing alerting to separate her from the others. He couldn't even describe the individual girls he'd been with over the past month; they were all so unoriginal they were blurring together. But then there was Cas. This hurricane of cynical sarcasm that swooped in on his life and battled him at every corner. If anything he kept Dean on his toes.

"Do you know how to play soccer Cas?" Dean sniped. The wind was dying down and the sun sweltered in the sky above them.

"Of course I do. I have some British relatives, they call it Football over there. We used to play as kids," Cas explained, wiggling his toes in the folds of the towel.

"I play too," Lisa leaned in at Dean, crawling her hands up his toned chest. Cas shuddered just looking at them. Watching her touch Dean left him feeling like ants were wriggling under his own skin and dislike coiled in his blood. She was practically throwing herself at him, did she have no self respect? Girls like that made Cas's blood run cold. Dean wasn't any better either. Soaking up all the attention like the smug prick he was.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas, who seemed in a world of his own, his nose upturned at Lisa. He was pretty much visibly glaring at her. Was he.. _Jealous_? Surely not. Yet the way Dean saw him wriggle in disgust, it had to mean something. A lingering pleasure soaked into his skin; delighted that he could get Castiel's green eyed monster to surface. He wondered how far he could push him till he'd finally admitted his attraction. Suddenly a devious plan began to develop in his mind and he grinned a cunning smile.

He dropped his hand lazily down onto Lisa's knee, caressing up to the exposed skin at her inner thigh suggestively. Slicking his tongue across his plump bottom lip, his eyes dodged between Lisa's eye-fucking gaze and Cas's frustrated expression. Dean's hairs prickled when Cas lean forward, clearly on edge. It was working.

"So how about it? Some soccer?" Jess said after a moment. The Winchester boys jumped up and created a playing field using rolled up towels for goal posts. Lisa started bouncing against Jess on her tip toes with excitement and Cas could feel his aggravation increasing with each preppy toss of her jet black hair.

"Okay there's an odd number so I don't know how we're gonna split the teams here," Jess put her hands on her slender waist.

"Me and Lisa against you all," Dean interjected, flashing Castiel a cocky wink. He notably tensed up.

"Sure," Sam bounced the ball off his knee and started kicking it toward Dean's goal. Dean cackled and chased after him, all manner of curses echoing into the air.

He flicked the ball from under Sam and started blasting down the beach towards Jess. She lunged to her left to block him but he was skilled, with a swipe of his heel he managed to catapult the ball over her right shoulder. He swerved past her. Cas dashed across the sand. A wild laugh bellowed out of Dean as Cas pounced on him like a hungry tiger. The ball hit between the two of them in a standoff near the goal, like a pinball rocketing against Dean's shins and then hurling into Cas's knee. Back and forward. Back and forward. And Cas was doing a pretty good job of blocking his every attempt to score.

Eventually Cas managed to boot the ball into the air and it whizzed past Dean to Sam who was positioned and ready. Before Dean could react the ball shot through his goal. Jess cheered while Sam danced in the sand in celebration.

Dean spun back to face Cas and bit down on his lip cheekily, "I'll get you for that Novak."

Cas felt a twinge in his tummy. No one had really referred to him as 'Novak' before. Well apart from teachers and high school students from eons ago in Gym class. But the way Dean had said it, the way it had rolled out of his lips.. It was almost lustful, dripping with some ulterior motive. And unbeknownst to Castiel, it was.

The rest of the game passed in a similar manner. They played till the sun had shifted position in the sky, pausing only at half time to snack on melted ice-cream and sandy sandwiches and argue unfair tactics. Cas was getting increasingly tired of Lisa and Dean's over bearing attitudes toward each other; Dean resting a hand on her shoulder; Lisa pecking his check; Dean holding her sides and laughing when they bumped into one another while running for the ball. He'd held Cas with those big hands in the same way.. Strong. Capable. Not that Cas was bothered. It wasn't like he cared...

When they finally finished playing Dean had managed to score two more goals. He plopped down on one of the towels, grinning smugly and leaning back. The pink band of sunset above them glowed like an aluminous highlighter.

"Knew I would win," Dean gloated.

"Okay, no one likes a brag," Cas moaned, sitting with his legs crossed, as far away from Dean as possible.

"Damn, you're a sore loser," Dean chuckled, pulling Lisa down onto the ground. She fell into his body. Hands stroking over his neck.

"You cheated, I'm sure of it," Jess kicked her foot into Dean's side.

Dean smirked, "Well, I couldn't very well lose in front of Lisa. Especially if I'm going to take her on a date. Hardly the best first impression." Cas felt his face twitch uncomfortably.

"Where are you gonna take me?" Lisa asked in a fluttery, girly voice. Cas thought she sounded shrill. He _really_ despised her now.

Dean gently cupped her butt with his hand, "We can go anywhere, baby."

"Ooh I can't wait," she giggled.

"I wouldn't be to excited if I were you," Cas mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Lisa tilted her head dopily and Cas felt the urge to wring her neck. His frustration boiled over and suddenly he felt wicked words coiling out his mouth.

"He's probably going to forget about you in a week. Dean isn't the settling down type. He'll fuck you and dump you," Cas said through gritted teeth, his voice progressively getting louder and louder, "Don't let him make you feel special. You'll just end up being another dumb, big boobed bimbo to add to his list of conquests. Sure, he'll make you feel loved to start with. Flirtatious compliments and buying you drinks. But when push comes to shove Dean is a player and you're a toy in his game."

Lisa stared at him. Mouth hanging open in surprise. She looked pale. Dean however was red faced and practically foaming at the mouth. Cas stood up quickly. It dawned on him that he was probably going to get lynched for speaking up. Everyone's eyes were tearing into his soul. Face flushed and head spinning he turned and scarpered over the sand, up onto the grassy dunes, ignoring Jess as she called his name. He kept running, the burning in his heart begging for relief. Pushing into the sand. His legs were already worn from chasing Dean on the beach earlier and now they ached with every, resistant step into the ground. The evening got darker and colder, sprinkles of stars emerging in the dark blue haze. Eventually when he approached the beach shacks near the carpark he slowed down. One of his hands leant on the white slats and the other rested on his knee while he bent over panting.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded, appearing behind him.

"What?" Cas shot up from his recovering position, still unable to catch his breath.

"That little speech you just made there? Probably never gonna hear from that girl again no thanks to you," Dean roared. He was puffing and slightly shiny with sweat. Cas figured he must have chased after him.

"Don't act like what I said wasn't the truth," Cas sniped. Rage building. The twisting knife of anger slaughtering his guts. He was exhaling heavily on purpose.

"Fine. Fair enough it may have been slightly true but what the hell are you playing at Cas? You jealous or something?" Dean snapped. He intended the jealousy thing to be a sarcastic joke but when the words left his mouth they sounded sincere, tinged with a serious agenda.

Cas stiffened, "Don't call me Cas, only my friends can call me that-"

"Oh get a grip! We ain't strangers anymore," Dean cut in, "Do you have a problem with me?" The space between then vanishing as Dean stepped closer and Cas was pressed against the shack wall. Dean's nostrils flaring with fury. He clenched his teeth, grinding his molars frustratedly.

"You're just so arrogant and bloody egotistic," Cas retorted trying to walk away.

"God you think you are so much better than everyone else! Just had to go and ruin my chances with Lisa," Dean smacked his two hands against the wood, entrapping Cas between his arms, glaring at him. The edges of his eyesight blurring. Blinking rapidly.

"I was merely warning her of what to expect from the likes of you," Cas recoiled with a snort. His breath was coming in and out in snappy bursts and he felt like his heart was on fire.

"No, you wanted me all to yourself," the words came out before Dean could control them, "Admit it. You hated seeing her draped over me. You've been pining over me since I rolled up."

"Don't flatter yourself," Cas grumbled, eyes shooting to the floor.

"You were jealous!" Dean snarled, venomous spit shooting out as he rolled the sentence off his tongue.

"I was not," Cas defended but his crimson cheeks betrayed him and he radiated redness. The traitorous expression smeared on his face making Dean's lust suddenly jolt into action.

"ADMIT IT!" He barked, pushing closer. Hot pheromones pumped around him, a slight, tense sweat steaming off his body. His jaw muscle jolting. Cas could almost taste the vanilla ice cream on his breath.

"I could never be jealous over someone like you! YOU ARE A SELF-ABSORBED, SMUG, RUDE, INCONSIDERATE-"

Dean's lips collided into Castiel's mouth fiercely cutting his rant short. His hands crashed over Cas's face, rushing up and tugging at his black hair, mashing their faces even tighter together. Cas's hands pushed against Deans pecs in a pathetic attempt to restrain but Dean snatched at his wrists and writhed his hands into the shack wall above his head. He clasped them there in place with one free hand and used the other to hold the back of Cas's head. A whimper tore in Cas's throat as Dean's tongue broke through his lips and delved into his mouth, a new toy for him to tease with. Cas didn't even think anymore, he just let his mind drain free of resistance and allowed Dean to devour his mouth. Teeth scraped against teeth. It was hot and angry. Dean breathed raggedly into Cas and they inhaled each other's musk. Dean loosened his grip on Castiel's hands and Cas dropped them forward, entwining them around Dean's neck, locking their bodies together.

One of the shack doors fell open and Cas stumbled through, pulling Dean into the darkness with him. They moved apart for a moment. Lips popping off. A pause. Both of their mouths wet and red. Cas was worried. His forehead creased as he looked at Dean in the shaded light for any sign of regret. Fear started to set in his bones. For a second he was sure Dean was going to turn and walk away. But surprisingly, as the sun slipped into the sea and the night embraced the beach, Dean closed the door shut behind him and pulled Castiel passionately back into his arms.

_To be continued..._


	5. Slow

Cas could feel Dean's tongue sliding in and out of his lips. Their bodies grinding into each other. The air in the small beach shack started to change, getting hot and heavy, and he felt his head going dizzy with delirium. This was exactly what he had wanted for so long, though he would never admit it till now. It was the touch, the sensation of having Dean's mouth on his... It instantly opened a floodgate of suppressed feelings; feelings that had been festering since they'd first clocked eyes on each other.

His body folded into Dean and he melted as Dean's hands twisted into his t-shirt, tugging it up. They were cold against Cas's warm stomach and there was a roughness to them, scratches and cuts in the palms, but Cas didn't mind. They were Dean's hands and they were on him and that's all that mattered. Electric jolts trickled to his spine as Dean began to send his hands further up the shirt. The way he touched, so desperate, so needy. Gripping the flesh hard enough that it almost became painful, just to draw a moan out of Cas. A moan Dean drowned out with his mouth.

Cas shifted away from Dean for a brief moment so he could yank his top over his head. It got caught on his face and he found himself blinded by the darkness of the fabric. Dean reached up to help but then he paused, stopping his hands on the bunched up shirt. Cas whimpered helplessly; feeling so suddenly lost without Dean's touch and lips on him. If he could see he would have noticed the slight devilish turn in Dean's smile.

"Dean?" Cas whined. He knew Dean was still here with him because he could hear the feverish breathing. He wriggled his arms and head but the shirt was caught around his neck.

Suddenly Cas's breath hitched. The unmistakable feel of wet lips on his body. Dean was planted kisses onto Cas's lower abdomen, near his belly button, excruciatingly close to his bulging crotch. _Was he really gonna_.. Before Cas could even begin to indulge in filthy imaginations, Dean's tentative fingers were loosening the buttons on his tight jeans and his mind turned to jelly.

His jeans were inched down. The fabric rubbing down his hot, bothered skin, freeing his sweaty thighs into the night air. Dean placed his hand on Cas's hip and held him steady as he worked the jeans off his feet. With every touch Cas was convulsing excitedly. He privately thanked the Lord that he'd opted to wear tight, white boxers today instead of unflattering, checkered briefs.

There was another moment of no contact or speech. Just breathing. Slow, building puffs against his legs. Dean was on his knees, soaking in the sight of Cas in his underwear. Vulnerable. Open. Willing. He had never done this kind of thing before. He'd had the feelings of course. There were urges for other men that burned inside him but he'd never acted on them. Yet this, right here, felt _right_.

Cas sensed his knees quake. The stomach flipping nausea as Dean swirled his tongue across the inner flesh of his thigh. A lightness surrounded him; like when he'd drunk champagne too fast last New Years, that same fizzy, airy haze sweeping over him. He was drunk on desire. Dizzily he swayed back into the wall and trembled as Dean continued to tease him.

Dean nipped his lips up the tender skin cruelly. Cas yelped. Dean shot up. Immediately his hand clamped down on the shirt, over the place where Castiel's pretty, watering mouth waited underneath.

"You gonna be quiet?" He whispered. He was like a snake charmer; tongue sliding near Cas's ear, coaxing sounds out of him he didn't even know he could make. Timidly he nodded. Dean grunted and gathered up the shirt and Cas breathed out a long gasp when it was wormed over his messy mane of hair. Free at last.

He stared at Dean in the dark; put his hands on the hem of the Winchester's shirt and slowly began lifting it up over his head. Dean sighed impatiently, snatched the t-shirt out of Castiel's grasp and dragged it quickly up so it dropped off onto the sandy wooden floorboards.

This wasn't a slow, tender thing. At least that's what Dean kept telling himself. This was simply sex. He'd done it a hundred times in exactly the same way as this. Fast. Fierce. If it got slow, if things got too gentle... No. It couldn't. It was going to be exactly the same as every other fling. There was hunger in his eyes. A wild desire in need of being fed. Without any more pausing or anticipation Dean cast off all emotional entanglements in his head and unbuckled his belt.

"I.. Um.. It's been a while," Cas murmured naively.

"Don't worry. I'll be quick," Dean bit his teeth in at Cas's neck. Such perfect skin. So damn soft. Dean just couldn't keep his hands to himself. They journeyed around Cas's body, gliding down the muscles of his back, digging into the backs of his legs. Warming Dean's blood to the core.

Cas wriggled as Dean sunk his teeth down again, "Ow! Will you cut it out? God, I hate you."

Dean's eyebrow twitched. There it was again. That tension that caused magnetic bolts in Dean's pants. There was just something about the way Cas said he hated him. Weirdly it was kind of sexy. A turn on.

"Oh, you do?" Dean remarked, shoving his hand unforgivingly down into Cas's underwear. Cas's entire body went static. The hairs on his arms stood up like pins. He rose on his tip toes. It was.. It felt.. There were no words to do the sensation justice, having those strong hands cupping his hard, throbbing cock, the long fingers wrapping round and circling against the head. It was everything.

"You hate this?" Dean asked, twisting his fist. The dick was so hot, it was like a fire poker just out the flames, burning in his palm. It sent rockets of lust through his pulses. He had to have Castiel. Then and there. He snatched onto Cas's chin and pulled their faces together again. The mushing, whimpering sounds commenced as their lips delved into each other.

Dean managed to hurriedly step out of his jeans and underwear while still working his arm on Cas's leaking member. He ripped Cas's boxers from his thighs and their naked forms slotted together. A fury of fast, passionate kisses. It was still so dark. They could barely see. But it only heightened the other senses. Especially touch. And every grasp, every hold, left them both wanting more.

Cas lifted his arms around Dean's head and locked them in place around his neck while Dean grappled Cas's thighs and lifted him up. Cas tied his legs around Dean's waist, holding himself there. He could feel Dean's hard rod settling under his ass. Inching near his hole. It was happening quick, like Dean had promised. But Cas wanted it to slow. To salvage and savour all the fumbling and feelings. It wasn't enough just to have it over in a blaze. It needed to mean something.

"Dean.." Cas whispered.

Dean broke away from nuzzling Cas's neck, "Yeah?"

"I.. I need a minute.." He murmured, sweaty forehead resting against Dean's. Damp strands of hair fell from both of their heads and curled over their eyes. Dean adjusted his hold and leaned Cas's back up against the wall of the shack, fingers clenching onto the meaty flesh of Castiel's thighs. He looked at him questioningly.

Cas breathed out, "Can you go slow?"

"Slow?" Dean gulped. _Slow_ wasn't part of the plan. When things got slow they got complicated. But Cas, this blue eyed boy, he sparked something inside Dean. Something that made him want to come back for more. And he was too far in to turn back now.

He slicked up his lips, "Sure, we can go slow." Then he kissed Cas sweetly. Suckling on the bottom lip and mumbling happily to himself. He dropped his hand under Castiel's ass and gripped on to his veiny dick. It was wet with pre-cum. He ran his tongue along his teeth sensually while he rubbed his thumb over the top of his cock and began to position it against Cas's asshole.

Cas felt the intrusion. The hardness slotting into the area where his hole was. Pushing ever so gently to break the seal. He bit his lip. Stabbing his front teeth down and wincing slightly as Dean groaned. The head began to thrust inside him and he let out a pained gasp.

"I'll... I'll be gentle," Dean promised, pecking his lips at the corner of Cas's open mouth, "Just relax."

Cas nodded. He inhaled and exhaled deeply. Allowing his body to dissolve into Dean, his tightness gradually ceasing as Dean carefully drove inside. His hole was warm, it cushioned Dean's cock and started opening to him. Giving him entry. Permission to fuck.

"God.. I can't wait to be inside you," Dean groaned. Cas felt a vibration in his groin, his heart trembling at the way Dean's low, gruff voice sounded in his ear. Lust clouded over him entirely. He felt he could explode already. It was building up inside like a tower, block after block, and Dean had the power to knock him down at any moment.

More of Dean's dick entered inside, edging past the rim of muscle and Cas rocked his hips into it. His body shivered. A tingle that spread up his back. The way Dean made him feel full, the stinging prickles of heat that burned in his asshole; it was too intense. He swallowed hard and bucked his hips again. Clinging on to Dean as his back arched. Dean thrusted up harder and Cas stretched open, the whole of Dean's cock burying into his ass in a final blow. Dean hummed and Cas's breaths caught in his throat anxiously. The entire length burrowed into the perfect slot. They settled for a moment, chests heaving with panted breaths. Cas squirmed slightly. His hole adjusting to the delicious sensation of such a large cock.

A primal instinct overtook and Dean started rocking up into Cas. A rhythmic beat of thrusts and gasps. Pushing up deep and rolling his dick forward so it rutted against the walls of Cas's hole. The swirling pattern of Dean's hips was intoxicating - sinking in and then dropping back out again. And again. And again. Cas was trembling under each motion.

However much he wanted to go crazy and fuck Cas senseless till he bottomed out, Dean remained tender. He now took the time to kiss sloppily and touch soothingly; actions he normally avoided during regular one night stands. He stared at Cas as he gently teased his dick in and out of him, absorbing all the angles of his face while he worked his way inside him.

It was like waves coming down on the sand, drawing out and then rolling back in again. Constant crashes. Flowing motions. Cas was making blissful whimpers of joy and chanting Dean's name under his breath, completely unaware that Dean was watching him because his eyes was sealed shut in ecstasy. Dean wanted him to open his eyes. Needing to gaze into the mesmerising blue to fulfil his orgasm.

Suddenly he hissed as Cas surprisingly clenched his butt cheeks together, creating a sizzling friction between them. Cas wanted to _really_ feel Dean. To feel him for hours, even days, after. Teeth gritted, Dean pushed his length up. He revelled in the beautiful pressure on his dick. His eyes rolled back in his head as he started pummelling faster.

"Ugh.. Dean!" Cas stuttered, dragging his nails down Dean's biceps, pulling their forms tighter together like he couldn't get enough. He let Dean pick up speed. Needing to be _used_. Charges of delirium coursing through his veins. It was getting hard and rushed. The climax drawing close. Faster. Harder. Cas squeezed his legs around Dean's waist, hanging on him like a monkey to a branch. Dean grunting like an animal. Sweat steaming off them both. The muscles in Dean's arms swelling up as he firmly clawed onto Cas and cried out, intensely fucking beyond the point of release. His eyes glazed over and tingles ricocheted from head to toe. Body embracing the sensation. It felt like it would never end. His cock endlessly unloading inside the sweet, hot hole.

Cas kept bouncing on the dick till his own cock spurted streams of white cum onto his and Dean's chests. Slick sounds of Dean's seed in his asshole filling the shack. Dean had managed to touch Cas in all the right places and the result was unimaginable bliss. It was a high he'd had never experienced before. His heart was racing. Goosebumps taking over his skin. The rising and falling of his body eventually slowing as the orgasm washed through him.

Then everything stilled. Dean looked into Cas's eyes. The cobalt colours shining like beacons, calling to him and making his heart lull uncontrollably. This whole set up was foreign to Dean. He was so far out of his comfort zone it made him shake. Cas reached up and cupped his hand onto Dean's head, fingers smoothing his damp hair.

"_Dean_.." He breathed.

Dean paused nervously to think, "We should head back." Carefully he untangled himself from Cas and lifted him down to the ground. He leant down quietly and picked up his boxers and jeans.

"But what now?" Cas stood quivering. The heat that circulated in the shack moments before fizzled away all at once. They were both stark naked and the sudden coolness of the night air tore through the cracks in the wood-slat walls.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know.. We go back.." He slipped his underwear back on and stepped into the first leg of his jeans.

Cas bent down and scooped his trousers into his hands, "Then what?"

"Then we go to the dorm I suppose, to bed. Don't you have classes tomorrow?" Dean murmured, his voice flat and emotionless. Castiel looked at him confused. What the hell was Dean doing? How could he just move on so quickly?

"But.." Cas felt his lip shaking.

"We go to bed, Cas. End of."

Dean finished changing, pushed open the shack door and disappeared. White moonlight flooded into Castiel's face, highlighting his naked body. Embarrassed he abruptly pulled on his trousers and t-shirt. On the floor lay the tattered remains of his underwear, ravaged into shreds by Dean, so Cas picked them up and stuffed them deep into his trouser pocket. No one needed to know. No one would EVER know.

He stood in the doorway, peering out at the darkness and the places where the moonlight touched. A slight breeze danced across the tips of the long, grass blades, whistling a lonely tune. Dean was long gone, lost in the sand dunes. Why was Cas surprised? Dean didn't owe him any favours or kindness. He'd mostly been a gentleman during the sex, respecting Cas's wishes and starting things slow. Yet now Cas felt nothing. Nothing but regret and shame. It was like black ink poisoning clear water; the feelings of disgust bubbling inside him, coiling and growing around his heart. It was all so wrong. Even when it had felt so right.

The crunching of feet on the sand pricked Cas's attention. Four forms came stomping up into view and out of the darkness, Dean leading the pack. The moonlight gave him an irresistible glow, almost ethereal, Cas thought.

"Ready to go?" Dean asked, voice light and charming again. The others circled around the shack and Cas gulped. All of their eyes analysing him. Lisa's eyes slightly more narrowed than the rest. She wouldn't forget todays events anytime soon. Anger was written all over her twisted face. Cas's chest tightened.

Why the hell did Dean bring them over here, to the site of their little rendezvous? Would they know if his hair was wild? Did the shack smell of sex? Dean's cum was still inside him. Cas could feel it trickling out and dribbling down his ass and legs. His face burned.

Dean turned to Sam, "See? He's fine. We talked it out." A cover story. Dean was playing this out very casually, acting so calm and collected.

Sam put his hand on Cas's shoulder. It was strong and steady. Brotherly.

"You sure you're okay now?" Sam raised an eyebrow. Cas nodded. Though he kept his mouth sealed shut, frightened he'd say something wrong or that his wobbly pitch would give away his nerves.

"Right lets get going then," Jess yawned.

They all piled back into the Impala. Cas lay his head against the window the entire ride home, with one of the beach towels hugging under his chin, listening to the rumble of the engine and the low volume drumming of rock music. He distanced himself from the meaningless discussions in the car and focussed on the road. The orange globes of streetlights illuminating his surroundings. Soon buildings and traffic began to emerge and Cas realised that he would be home soon. Safe.

At one point, when the car pulled up down the road from the dorm and everyone was starting to stumble out, Cas saw Dean staring at him in the rear view mirror reflection. He appeared concerned. Did that mean he cared? This was tiring. Cas couldn't comprehend anymore.

When he climbed out the car with all his books and bags Sam caught the door and held it open.

"Thanks Sam," Cas whispered. His voice croaky and sore. There was a lump in his throat that hadn't been there before.

Dean was still sat in his drivers seat and he rolled down his car window, "Hey Sammy, think I'm gonna go for a little drive? Need to call Dad and.. Uh.. Get some air, 'kay?"

"Oh, okay. Thanks for the ride. I'll leave the door unlocked," Sam waved.

Dean gripped his hands on the steering wheel, "Thanks. Don't wait up." And then he sped away. Cas watched till the red taillights became specks on the black horizon.

"Cas? You sure you're okay?" Sam stood by. Waiting. Watching.

Cas turned and started walking up the stone path, "I'm fine."

_I'm fine._

_It meant nothing._

_I'm gonna be fine..._


	6. Yes Professor

Castiel didn't see Dean for three days. Sam mentioned something about him picking up a job in the area and that he'd likely be back within the week. Seemed coincidental. Dean dashed off just when things got messy at the drop of a hat.

The hours wasted away and anticipation gnawed in Cas's mind. What would they say to each other when he got back? If they even spoke that is. He feared that his words would get stuck in his mouth. So for the majority of the passing days Cas tried to work out what he would say, running potential situations over and over in his head. Nothing felt right. It was useless.

He desperately wanted to confide in Meg. Though even then he didn't know what to say, where to start. So instead he avoided the topic and their conversations were gradually weaned off the subject of Mr Winchester.

Dean, however, eventually managed to worm his way into Cas's dreams. He invaded in and his beautiful face merged out of the cloudy darkness till all Cas could see was Dean staring back at him. Taunting him. Temping him. That's when the nights became restless. Cas tossed and turned trying in vain to focus his mind on something, _someone_, else. Eventually he gave up. By the end of the week Dean had imprinted himself into Cas's subconscious, like a ghost following him through his days.

* * *

It was a warm Friday evening. Dean had been gone for almost _two_ weeks. Yet he was everywhere in Cas's head, haunting his steps. Cas was sitting in the lecture hall, resting his head against his hand and loosely scribbling notes into his notepad. The sun rays cascaded against his left cheek pleasantly. Without realising his eyes dropped and he drifted into sleep...

_Grass underfoot. Fields. The sun in the pale sky. The grass was long. It came up to his waist. Cas flowed his hands into the strands. They smelt like rain. Calm. A light breeze shifted the grass and it moved like water. He didn't feel the wind on his body though. Just warmth from the sun. _

_ "Cas!" _

_ He turned and Dean was standing in the centre of a white room. The grass disappeared. Fields vanished. He glanced around. He was in a modern, sparsely filled bedroom. There was a large white bed with white duvet on one wall, big ceiling to floor windows spreading across the other. Out the windows a white beach and ocean unfolded. _

_ Dean drifted over and all at once he was holding Cas, big arms wrapped around his body, scooping him into a familiar hold. Except it wasn't familiar. It was Dean, but it wasn't the Dean that Cas knew. This Dean was loving and affectionate in ways uncommon to Cas. His jungle green eyes had a glaze of admiration as he beamed down. He pecked his full lips onto Cas's forehead. The kind of kiss you trade with a boyfriend. Cas hoped his face wasn't too red. _

_ "I want you Castiel," Dean said. His voice didn't sound right. Like Cas was hearing it through a wall. It sounded distant and quiet and it didn't match with the speed that Dean's lips moved at. _

_ "I do," he said again, the voice tuning in Cas's head, trying to find the correct level. This time it was too loud and Cas stepped back confused. _

_ Dean shifted forward to regain their closeness again. He steadied his big hands on Castiel's face, holding him there. Not that Cas would move back again anyway. Dean's stare had him transfixed on the spot. Eyes searching into him. _

_When Dean spoke this time his voice was pure and perfect, "I want you." Cas nodded and Dean lightly pushed him back. _

_ He floated down on to the bed, the enormous duvet swallowing him up and he was submerged in white fabric. The softness cuddled him. He smiled contently. Dean vanished from view for a moment then a hand grasped the duvet and peeled it back. Light blocked Cas's view. He blinked till the harshness faded away and finally he could see. _

_ Dean was standing up, shirtless, white-wash, denim jeans hugging his legs. Behind him the blue ocean sparkled. The sky in the distance seemed unrealistically bright. _

_ There was a dip in the mattress as Dean knelt forward and moved onto Cas. Though there wasn't the heaviness he expected as Dean climbed on top of him. Everything was light. Airy. Movements like falling feathers. _

_ It dawned on him suddenly that he was naked. The sunlight reaching every inch of his body. Yet surprisingly he felt comfortable; he wasn't embarrassed. He looked Dean up and down. The chiselled shape of his torso was god-like and a defined 'V' travelled down under the waist of his jeans. A light scruff on his jawline tickled over Cas's skin as Dean smooched up his tummy. _

_ When he reached his face Dean trailed kisses up Cas's cheek and then back to his lips. Cas giggled. It would be cringey in any other scenario. Right now however it was romantic. _

_ Dean grabbed the white sheets and pulled them over both of their heads._ _He nuzzled down into Cas's neck. Sweet. Soft. Cas raked his fingers through Dean's tufts of hair. They were weirdly smooth. Almost silky. Not the spiky texture Cas had felt in the beach shack. Dean rested his elbows either side of Castiel's shoulders so that his head hovered above Cas. His hair kind of fell forward and grazed Cas's face. _

_ Cas lazily looked into Dean's mesmerising eyes and Dean smiled a goofy, curling smile. They lay their for what seemed hours. Dean caressed his hands down Cas's jaw, past the creases of his eyes, twirling dark hair around his long fingers. The far off sound of crashing waves and cawing gulls echoing in Cas's ears. White, inviting sheets warmed around him. Perfection. _

_ Tentatively Dean manoeuvred one of his hands back down Cas's body, leaning on his other elbow to support himself. Cas felt a strong, solid grip around his cock. He gulped and Dean winked at him. Ever so slightly he twisted his hand. Cas threw his head back in delight. _

_ "Look at me," Dean whispered. Voice powerful and rich. Cas obeyed. He let Dean fist his cock, the speed getting quicker, till he was panting uncontrollable and muttering a mantra of 'please' and 'Dean' over and over. Dean watched him, shifting body squirming in ecstasy underneath his looming form. His hand was so careful, so steady. Comforting grasp guiding towards an orgasm. His thumb pressed firmly against the swollen head of Castiel's dick. He tightened his hold. Squeezing. Precome trickled out of Cas's cock. Dean smothered it into his strokes, slicking up the pace. His fingers smoothed down the shaft. Tighter. Cas heaved, almost ready to cum, to spill his white seed over Dean's fingers. Blue eyes wide and fixed on Dean's, him hovering above. Closer. The way Dean looked back at him, wanting him, with desire to protect and love him, it was knocking Cas into oblivion. Almost there. Tighter. The lightness around him suddenly got brighter. Dean's face illuminating. Hand pumping. Tighter. Brighter. Almost-_

"MR NOVAK!"

SHIT!

Castiel's eyes flashed open panicked. His head was resting against the lines in his notebook and a ruler was pressed down beside his nose. He followed the ruler up to the pale, white-knuckled hand that gripped on and stared shocked at Professor Balthazar.

"Professor!" Cas jumped up. One side of his face felt numb and there was an uncomfortable sensation swirling in his stomach. A flustered heat spread up his cheeks. He smoothed down his creased shirt, his hands trembling. In fact his whole body was trembling. He didn't know whether it was because he'd been caught sleeping in class or because of his very intimate dream with Dean. His dick was still hard and there was a damp patch in his crotch so it was likely the latter.

"I'm so- so sorry!" Cas stammered.

Professor Balthazar lifted the ruler away, glaring down unimpressed, "This isn't you Mr Novak. I never had you down as the type to sleep through a lecture."

Cas inhaled sharply. It was true. This was very out of character. Castiel had never even had a day off school, ever, in his _life_. He was straight A all the way. Hand raised at every question. Pages upon pages of notes and revision material.

"It won't happen again," he mumbled.

"Make sure it doesn't," Mr Balthazar replied coldly. The words stabbing like ice in Cas's brain. None of this would have happened if it weren't for _him_.

Mr Balthazar walked to the front of the class. The heels of his boots clapping like thunder on the wooden floor. He picked up a piece of dusty chalk and began writing up the titles of books that the students were meant to read before the next class.

"Oh and Mr Novak?"

Cas glanced up from his book.

"See me at the end," Professor Balthazar said with his back to the class, chalk moving around the board. A knot twisted in Castiel's gut. This wasn't going to be good. He glanced down at his trousers. The unmistakable evidence of his sordid fantasy soaking into his legs. Ashamed he covered up the spot with the bottom of his shirt and prayed that it dried before the end of the lesson. _God damn Dean..._

* * *

"So," Professor Balthazar leant back in his leather chair, propping his feet onto his wooden desk. It was the most laid back Cas had ever seen him. He was usually very uptight. But his suit jacket was flailing open and his maroon, silk shirt was loosened a few extra buttons than necessary. Light chest hair was exposed.

"Fancy telling me what's going on?" He said, folding his arms.

The sky outside was scattered with pinky, purply clouds and the sun was slipping down behind the twisted trees, casting long shadows that looked like spiders legs.

"Just been tired sir," Cas said quietly. He was standing at the other side of the professors desk, hands behind his back respectfully, book bag wrapped round his body.

"It's more than that. How 'bout you sit down?" Professor Balthazar reached under his desk and Cas heard the clatter of glass as a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers were brought out. He breathed heavy and untangled himself from his bag. A chair was pulled over and he sat opposite the professor, the soft glow of the desk lamp brightening his face.

"Come closer," the professor beckoned, lifting his legs off the desk, pouring the golden brown liquid into the glasses.

Cas paused awkwardly and then dragged the chair round the side of the desk so that the two men were seated directly before each other. Their knees almost touched.

"Here," Professor Balthazar handed the tumbler over, the liquid sloshing inside. Cas cupped the glass and stared down. He swished the drink nervously. The professor raised his glass and sipped so Cas knocked back the whole glass, the whiskey slithering down his throat with a burn.

"Steady there Mr Novak."

"Sorry," Castiel mumbled, wiping the back of his hand over his dripping lips.

"It's fine. What's troubling you?" He asked. Voice smooth. The British accent very poignant and defined. Cas had always thought it was kind of _sexy_.

"Well, it's.. Um." How to word it? It was pretty confusing. In all honesty he didn't know how to rationalise the situation to himself, so explaining it to someone else seemed pretty impossible. Why was he so distracted?

"Let me guess, a boy?" Professor Balthazar raised an eyebrow and took another slow sip. Cas's heart dropped. It wasn't a secret that he was gay, but he was still under the impression that most of the university thought he was straight. He avoided eye contact and stared at his empty tumbler.

"Uh.. Yeh kind of," he whispered.

"It's okay. No need to be embarrassed. I've been there before," the professor stated.

Cas glanced up. Professor Balthazar flashed a sultry smile back at him and Cas blushed.

"Look, you can't let complications get in the way of your education. You're my top student. I want you to stay that way. No more slacking," the professor explained, leaning forward so his elbows sat on his knees and the tumbler with whisky rested in his palms.

"I understand," Castiel nodded. He passed the empty tumbler from left to right in his hands.

"I expect big things from you Mr Novak. That's why I'm so harsh on you sometimes. I see what you can be and I want you to succeed," Professor Balthazar carried on. He reached a finger out and brushed it against his students hand. Cas felt his body tighten. The finger lingered against his skin for a few seconds. It didn't feel right. Like his flesh was crawling with ants. He pulled his hand away. For a moment he was sure he saw a disappointed frown cross the professors face. It vanished almost as soon as he spotted it.

"Anyway, I'm here if you do need to talk. I know these things can be hard to explain," Professor Balthazar relaxed back in his chair, swivelling casually around.

"Thankyou sir," Cas placed the tumbler on the desk, "I should probably head back to my dorm."

The professor finished up his drink too, "Yes, yes of course."

Castiel returned his chair back and gathered his bag. He was at the back of the room and almost out the door when the professor stood up.

"Hold on a second Mr Novak, I'll walk you out," he said. Cas paused and watched as the professor tidied his desk and flicked the light switch. The room almost filled with darkness, except the slithers of amber sunlight streaking through the windows. A satchel was removed from a drawer and hung over the professors shoulder and he strutted to meet Cas at the exit.

They stepped into the hallway and Professor Balthazar turned and locked his classroom door. Cas sunk his hands into his trench coat pockets. Together they walked down the corridor in silence, turning to the double doors that opened out onto the cobbled courtyard.

The cool evening air wrapped around Cas as he stepped out through the doors. He was thankful for the trench coat. The snugness off the fabric fighting off the cold. The professor breathed out and a slight fog rose from his breath.

"Hmm. It's chilly for this time of year," he remarked, "Have a pleasant night Mr Novak. Don't forget the reading material for tomorrow. And no more napping in class." Professor Balthazar wagged a finger jokingly and then slinked off down the steps. Cas rolled his eyes and started walking down the steps.

_Stop_. He froze. Heart dropping and then racing like a band of drummers thumping in his rib cage. Under the casting streaks of a lamppost, across the courtyard, was the Impala, parked up and waiting. _Dean_. He was casually standing beside the car, resting against the bonnet. Red plaid shirt stretching over his folded arms. Watching impatiently. He looked frustrated.

Cas inhaled. Body frigid with fear. He gulped and started stepping towards the Impala. Feet uneasy on the cobbles as he crossed the yard, cutting the space between him and Dean in seconds.

"Cas," Dean nodded in recognition.

"Hello Dean," his voice was trembling, he knew it was. _Fuck sake_.

"You're late out," Dean remarked, "Some _one-on-one_ studying with the professor?"

Cas searched Dean's expression. Jaw locked sharply. Eyebrows narrowed. Face flaming a shade of red. He was _jealous_. He actually thought something was going on between him and Professor Balthazar!

"Nothing happened," Cas replied. Wait. Was he seriously justifying himself? To Dean?

Dean shook his head.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he muttered irritatedly and turned to get back in the Impala.

Cas snatched at his shirt, "Hey! Where you going?"

Dean spun around, "Well what was that all about?" He gestured back to the classroom angrily.

"I was upset. He was just concerned."

"Upset?" Dean's tense shoulders dropped.

"Yes!" Cas snapped, "I was upset! You just left. I don't even know what's going on! I'm so confused..."

"I had a job. My Dad needed me. I should have said something.. I'm sorry," Dean stretched a hand out and rubbed Cas's arm. Cas pulled back.

"Don't. You've messed with my head enough," Cas whispered.

"I don't understand _this_ either. I've never done it before, with a guy. It's pretty confusing for me too," Dean grumbled, crossing his arms again rejected.

"I'm not gonna wait around while you figure out what you want," Castiel said.

"And what do _you_ want?" Dean demanded. Cas pursed his lips, disguising his turmoil.

He decided to change the subject, "Why did you come? Why were you waiting for me?"

Dean stared at his scuffed boots, "I don't know. I just.. I had to see you."

"Why?" Cas pushed again.

"I don't know. To apologise. To figure out what's going on in my head. I thought if I saw you it would all make sense," Dean rubbed his brow, "You were so damn annoying before this. I wanted to beat the shit out of you sometimes. But then we.. _kissed_. And now.."

"Now what?"

"I don't fucking know, okay!"

Cas sighed, "I've got work. I have to go."

Dean stepped forward, apologetically opening his arms, "Let me drive you?"

"I think I should walk," Cas replied gently, Dean slumped back, "Goodnight Dean. It's nice to see you back."

Dean was watching him go and Cas had to fight to keep his focus on the path ahead and not turn back. Finally he vanished down an avenue and out of Dean's sight.

What the hell was that? None of the situations Cas had imagined in his head had gone off like that. All of the things he'd planned to say choked back in his throat. Everything was a jumbled mess. Regardless Dean had come back to see _him_. That had to count for something...

_To be continued..._


	7. Confessions

**I've been trying to upload a few chapters recently because I've got exams coming up and I want to leave you guys something to read while I'm busy revising, as I won't have much time to write! Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Almost two week past. Tension cutting through the dorm room with every day that dragged by. Cas was trying to avoid Dean at all costs. He was glad that Dean was back, of course. It had been all he could think about. Clouding over every judgement and action on the build up to his return. Yet with his reappearance came so many questions and very few answers. When they were around each other Cas couldn't rationalise his thoughts, like a puppet cut from his strings. For his own well being he'd decided to distance himself. So he purposely looked in a different direction whenever Dean glanced his way and excused himself it was just the two of them alone.

Dean wouldn't say anything out loud but Castiel's little, dismissive actions were like gunshots to his heart. He tried ignoring the feelings. Drinking for a distraction and flirting with girls at bars. Nothing eased the hurt. He wanted Cas to _want_ him. There were a few times when he considered packing it all in, stuffing his clothes in a bag and driving off. New town. Fresh start. Away from Stanford. Free of Castiel. But whenever he got the duffel bag out from under Sam's bed a nauseous sensation of defeat swamped through. And Dean wouldn't be defeated.

* * *

It was a hot Thursday morning. Cas was packing his books into his satchel, tiptoeing around the room as to not wake Dean. He was half-snoozing in Sam's bed, dressed in jeans and a crumpled black t-shirt, still conscious and aware of Cas's footsteps. The soft patter of his shoes against the wooden floorboards near Dean's head. Since he had been back Dean been sleeping rough on the floor so whenever he had the chance he jumped into Sam's bunk.

Cas picked up an orange folder, filled with descriptive notes and highlighted key points, when the binder snapped in his hands. Sheets and sheets of paper fanned out across the room. Typical. He crouched down to retrieve his work, muttering to himself in annoyance.

Dean opened his eyes and lurched up giving Cas a start. They made immediate eye contact. Green staring into blue. This time Cas didn't look away. Eyes swimming in to each other. Dean's hair was a mane of untamed spikes and he combed his hand through to tidy it.

"Need a hand?" He offered, stepping up out of the bed. It was the first words spoken between them for days. Cas tilted his head in the cute, innocent way that Dean admired.

"Yes please," he replied eventually. Dean grinned. He knelt down and began gathering up the sheets. Purposely taking his time. Glancing over to Cas. Soaking in the chance to look at his face. Cas blinked and looked up from the floor. His eyes smiling gratefully, sending flutters to Dean's stomach. They didn't need to say much. It was just nice to be by Cas's side. Helping him.

Cas reached for a piece of paper as Dean moved his arm across and their hands connected. Palms and fingers gingerly smoothing over. Dean felt a spark. He shifted his thumb and rubbed it tenderly along Castiel's fingers, watching Cas gulp in response. They stared at each other. Cas swiped his tongue along his dry lips and Dean nearly whimpered at the teasing sight.

He wanted nothing more than throw Cas down into the papers and fuck him till they both saw stars. The urge was overflowing inside. Skin burning with lust where his hand touched Cas's. Dirty thoughts bubbled in his mind. The wicked things he would do. He could almost feel his dick growing, hardening in his confined jeans. His grip on Castiel's hand tightened.

"Dean.." whispered Cas. Voice nervous and tense, like there was so much he wanted to unload but the words were being strangled in his throat. He fidgeted, lip shivering in fluster.

Dean swallowed hard, preparing himself, "Cas, I-"

"Don't," Cas closed his eyes for a second to regain his composure, "Don't do anything, or say anything, if you don't mean it. It needs to matter. At the beach.. I'm not that kind of person Dean. I don't sleep around for fun. I let my emotions get the better of me but I can't... I won't do it again. Not unless you mean it."

Dean bowed his head, "I understand Cas. I still want you. I don't know what it is. It's crazy, I've never felt this way about anyone. But I _want_ you."

"You want to fuck me," Cas stated blatantly.

Dean shifted his weight awkwardly, "Well, yeah. I do."

"And after? Dean, listen, I get it. This thing we have, it's different. Forbidden. Exciting. But in the end it's just the chase you want," Cas sighed, "You want to fuck me but when all that is done, do you actually _want_ me?"

Dean studied Cas's face. Eyebrows turned up with worry and a glimmer of hope. Expecting Dean to say something. And he wanted to. The words formed on his tongue. He was about to speak up. About to tell Cas that we saw a chance, a future with him. A relationship beyond sex. His mouth opened and then... nothing. His mouth just hung open wordlessly.

Cas pulled his hand away and scooped up more papers, "That's all the answer I needed."

Dean glanced at his hand. Empty and cold without Cas's touch. In a whirlwind moment Castiel scooped up the last of his papers and swooshed out of the door, trench coat tails waving round the doorframe.

Later, at lunchtime, Dean was sprawled out on the grass in the sun with Sam contemplating his next move. How to approach the subject again? How to get Cas to understand?

Sam sat up, his arms a golden colour. He always got tanned. Dean just burned.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Sam said after a sigh.

Dean squinted his eyes at his brother, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's just I didn't expect you to come back again. This is the longest you've stayed in one place Dean, since the house in Kansas," Sam explained. Dean sat up too and bit his lip. He'd been fooling himself into thinking he was coming back for Sam. It dawned on him that throughout his entire stay with his brother he'd spent more time thinking about Sam's roommate than anything else.

"Dean... Does this have anything to do with Cas?" Sam said, so quietly and almost under his breath that Dean nearly missed what he'd said. _Nearly_.

"Cas?" He coughed, trying to detach any emotion from his voice.

"I've seen the way you act around each other. The way you look at him. There's an atmosphere. Like you both want to say something but neither of you want to be the first to speak up."

Dean bowed his head.

"You can tell me, Dean," Sam encouraged.

"I don't know how to explain it Sammy. It's Cas. He... I... We... Oh, I don't know. We hooked up."

Sam didn't seem fazed. Dean was kind of alarmed that his baby brother wasn't the in the slightest bit bothered.

"I thought so. And now what?" Sam asked, long hair swishing.

Dean paused, accepting the total absurdity of the whole conversation, "Well now nothing. I tried to tell him how I feel but I couldn't do it. Dude, I'm not equipped for these kinds of situations. I've never had to talk about my feelings and stuff before.."

Sam crossed his legs and stared at his sibling, "And how _do_ you feel, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. This was feeling more and more like a therapy session. But hell he needed it.

"I don't know how to explain it, Sam. When I'm around him I can't think straight. He makes me want to do better, be better. And when he smiles at me I lose my shit."

Sam tossed his head back laughing. Dean blushed profusely and felt his body tense.

"What's so funny?" He snapped angrily.

Sam patted his back, "Aw Dean, it's so obvious it's laughable. You're falling for Cas. How cute. Dean's got a crush." Sam teased a finger into Dean's ribs, tickling his skin.

"Quit it!" Dean batted him away, "It's not funny. I'm a grown man, not a teenager. What do I do?"

Sam giggled, "Well confront him! Tell him what's going on. He's never gonna listen to you if you're not 100% honest. Ask him on a date maybe?"

Dean squirmed uncomfortably, "I don't date Sammy. It's not my style."

"If you want Cas then you gotta make it your style," Sam wagged a finger in his brothers unimpressed face.

"What will people say? What will they think?" Dean murmured quietly after a moment. He'd tried so hard for years to be the perfect hunter, to be just like his Dad. It certainly wasn't part of hunter tradition to settle down with a nice boyfriend.

"Dean, who cares what people think? If this is what you want then go for it. Don't let anyone hold you back."

"Sam, why aren't you weirded out by me and Cas? Dad would freak out," said Dean once he'd digested all Sam had to say.

"I'm not Dad," smiled Sam, "I just want you to be happy."

* * *

The floorboards in _BRANDY'S_ were sticky, as always. Cas's shoes practically peeled off the wood as he walked over to the bar. He slung his trench coat on to a barstool and hunted under the bar for the cleaning cupboard key. A jangly bunch of keys linked on a tired piece of string normally hung from the hook by the crates. Today the hook was empty.

"Please not today," Cas groaned. Friday morning sunshine was breaking through the student bar blinds. It was barely dawn. Too early for this kind of shit.

He scanned around the bar for the keys. Hands patting along the black worktop as if they would appear beneath his palms. While he searched he made a whistling sound with his lips. A little tune to ease the tiredness away.

Just when he considered giving up and retreating back to his bed, despite the fact that Dean would be in his room, the sunlight glinted off a metallic clump on top of the bottled beer fridge.

Cas swiped the keys into his hands and stomped over to the cupboard.

"Who the hell put the keys there?" He mumbled to himself while he fiddled around with the cupboard lock. The door jarred open and he stumbled into a black void. Reaching up his hand found the beaded light switch. With a tug the bulb flashed on in the centre of the little, box room. Cas blinked at the harsh brightness.

Metal shelves stacked up to the ceiling and were filled with cleaning products, scrubs and buckets. In one corner was a mop and behind that a broom. Cas grabbed onto a black apron that he'd neatly folded on a shelf beside the door and tied it round his waist. The entire room was organised by his standards. A collection of bright blue disinfectants lined on his left; below them a row of yellow toilet bleach bottles; beneath those were two stacks of mustard-coloured sponges and some dull, red floor cleaner. He'd only been doing the job for a short time but that wasn't going to stop him from creating some kind of system.

Content again he collected a grey, plastic bucket and poured three glugs of wooden floor cleaner into the bottom. Then he took the mop and walked to the back of the bar where the toilets were. At the sink he filled the bucket to half way. Bubbles floated on top of the water. He looked up and faced his mirror reflection. There were bags under his eyes. He'd been working the night before in the gas station and he was marked in to work tonight too. It was going to be a _long_ day.

Suddenly his limbs felt heavy and weak as he carried the bucket through to front of the bar. He stuck the mop into the bucket, pulled it back out and began sloshing soapy water around the floor.

When he'd finished dragging the bucket around the entire bar, soaking the wooden floor till it shined, his phone started to ring from his coat pocket. Tiptoeing between the drying spots Cas manoeuvred over to where the bleeping sounded, yet when his hand grasped the phone the call stopped. He sighed. Typical.

"If it's important they'll call back," he mumbled to himself. He continued his cleaning, scrubbing down all the optics and shining the brass beer pulls. Retrieving the polish from the cupboard he started wiping down the tables. He worked relentlessly till he was at the front of the building rubbing down the last round table. Lost in thought his heart jumped when a loud knocking rattled against the door.

Wonderingly he walked across and turned the handle. Dean stood before him. Sunlight hit the tips of his hair. He looked flustered and strange. All the confidence and swag he once had drained from his stance. Cas stepped aside and gestured for Dean to come in, which he did. Slowly Cas closed the door and turned to face him.

"D-Dean?" He stammered, "What are you doing here?"

Dean walked right up to him, so they were face to face, palms sweating as he tried to hold back his nervous shakes, "I've come to ask you out on a date."

"A date?" Cas was floored.

"Yes," Dean reached out and took a trembling hold of Cas's unsure hands, "I was thinking about asking you last night, then you had work so I couldn't, and I know it's early but I tried calling. You didn't answer and I just.. I had to ask you. I had to know... I like you Cas. A lot. It's more than just sex. And, if you want it too, I'd like to date you. I've never done this before and I can't promise I'm going to be perfect all the time but I'd like to try. I'd like _us_ to try."

Cas couldn't make words come out of his lips. He knew in the back of his mind that this was the last thing he should be doing, after all the drama and reservations, but he felt powerless to stop it. So he nodded. _Yes_.

Dean's breath graced on his lips. The dangerous closeness making a hot rash crawl over his skin. He was helpless to do anything. A shiver bit up his spine as Dean kissed him. He tilted his head and the kiss deepened. It was so passionate that Cas's knees almost fell apart beneath him, Dean's hands fisting his hair the only thing keeping him from crumbling there and then.

Somehow Cas managed to break away long enough to catch air. Breathlessly he let Dean push him back till his ass hit against a gleaming, polished table. Their lips locked together again. Dean was being so forward and it made Cas's dick tent his trousers, his body running on adrenaline.

Dean pecked at his neck, fingers fumbling to untie the apron around his waist, hands brushing the curve in his back. He grunted in Cas's ear frustrated.

"Ah fuck it!" He swore, voice heavy and dripping with desperation. He grabbed Cas's arms and spun him round, pressing up against his back, cock rubbing into his jeans and forcing him over the table. Cas jutted forward and his arms splayed out onto the table. Dean was rock hard and Cas could feel the head of his dick prodding into the back of his trousers. He peered over his shoulder and bit his lip. Dean was so big and hard for _him_. It made his heart stammer to savour the thought.

Dean tugged at Cas's trouser buttons and they popped open. His jeans sagged on his hips temptingly. Cas gulped as he watched. Dean looked wild. Lips red and jungle green eyes staring down at him, feasting on his body. His throat clenched in anticipation as Dean's fingers teased at the rim of his jeans and underwear. Delicately he fanned his hands around the tight trouser fabric, brushing over the back pockets. He squeezed and then ripped the jeans down off the curve of Cas's butt, taking the boxers down with them in one hot movement. Cas's erection bobbed up freely. Swollen and red and dribbling clear pre-cum down the shaft. A droplet fell to the newly cleaned floor.

"Stay there," Dean commanded, standing back. Cas stilled. Face pressed against the wood, breathing heavy. His heart thumping in his rib cage. Chest rising and falling on the table. A strong, fresh, pine scent floating up from the polish into his nose.

Dean crouched. He licked his lips and slipped the tip of his finger into the pool of pre-cum collecting between Cas's legs. Cas felt a euphoric tremble surge to his core as he eyed Dean down near his cock, finger glistening with _his_ liquid. Dean opened his lips and stuck his soaked finger deep into his mouth, suckling on the taste of Cas. Eyes shut. Moaning. Cas's mouth hung open in shock.

Dean opened his eyes and pulled his finger out of his mouth with a pop. He smirked. Cas felt weak. His cock strained between his thighs.

"You taste as good as you look," Dean smiled, breath warm against the hairs on the back of Cas's leg. Slowly, still in his crouched position, he edged nearer to Castiel's hole. With him bent over the table, legs slightly apart, Dean was at the perfect angle to admire Cas's tight, beckoning ass. He leaned in closer and blew gently on the rim of pink flesh. Cas moaned.

"Like that, huh Cas?" Dean asked, settling a hand on one of his exposed butt cheeks.

Cas mumbled, "Feels good."

"I'm the only one who can make you feel that good," Dean whispered. Then he plunged his mouth onto Cas's bud, swiping his long, flat tongue in a swift lick, flicking the end against the hole. Cas juddered at the sensation. He made intolerable, enlightened groans of pleasure as Dean cared for him. His nails dug into the table and his eyes fluttered in disbelief. He'd never experience such a spine-tingling pleasure in all his life.

It was sloppy. Dean's mouth watered with saliva and it trickled around Cas's hole till he dragged it up and around, catching the flavour with his lips. A taste that was purely Cas. This was the first time Dean had ever done this to a guy. He knew how to eat out a girl, where to lick and what folds of skin would make her scream his name, but with Cas it was a different. He actually took the time to discover and map which areas of flesh made his lover whimper contently.

When Cas began squirming around, knees bending to push his ass into Dean's warm mouth, Dean couldn't help smiling to himself. He loved that he could make Cas convulse and twist in such a way with the brush of his tongue. Urged on by Castiel's rotating hips he burrowed deeper, pushing his tongue into the muscle. His cock throbbed jealously in his pants, desperate to sink into the delicious hole.

Cas felt his mind was shattered. The sinful way his body uncontrollably rolled into Dean's tongue was obscene. Everything about this man; the way he kissed, the way he dirty talked, the way he touched, it all sent goosebumps over Cas's skin.

Eventually Dean pulled himself away. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up. Cas began to rise from the table but Dean placed a hand onto his back and pressed him down into the wood, all sweaty and fogged up from his body.

"Stay right there," he said in a cool tone. Cas obliged, adoring having Dean's forceful grip holding him in place. He heard the undeniable slide of a zipper and suddenly a hot, moist cock was forcing into his prepared ass. Dean clenched his grip on Cas's back, steadying himself with both hands now that his dick was in position.

"Need this Cas. Need you," groaned Dean as his rod melted into the soft hole. Cas was in a daze, his ass swallowing the cock till he felt balls slapping against his flesh. The muscles inside him milking Dean's erection hungrily.

"Fuck me Dean," Cas managed to pant, aching with want.

Dean didn't even start slow this time. He couldn't control himself. He went straight into rapid thrusts, sending buzzes into Cas's veins whenever his cock struck his prostate. It burned for a few minutes but soon that faded away to pure, wicked delirium. Dean puffed while he frantically fucked into Cas, breath becoming hitched when he began to collide into him faster, their bodies slick with sweat. Cas loved the way Dean moved, dragging his cock in and out of him with inarticulate grunts. All he could hear, apart from the ringing of molten pleasure in his ears, were the words 'Cas' and 'yes'. It spurred him on and he tried to squeeze his ass tighter.

"Ah yes! Just like that!" Dean shouted, tossing his head back, adoring the thick muscles coiling around his dick. His hands slipped down to where the apron ties were still knotted beside Cas's ass. His fingers tightened around the dangling chords of fabric and Cas's body shivered when he felt Dean grinding into him, hands gripping on the apron strings like they were reigns. The apron dug into Cas's skin as it was tugged up but he didn't even feel any discomfort. His senses instead focussed on the intense leverage Dean now had; the way he bucked up and then leaned over and peppered Cas's back with kisses.

Cas knocked his head over his shoulder and gazed back at Dean while he was being fucked, body pinned to the spot. His brow turned in seriousness and his stare was heavy. Eyes telling Dean how good this felt, how hard he wanted it. Dean moved the apron strings into one vice fist and curved his other hand around Cas's ribs, easing his sweaty body off the table.

Cas leaned up so that Dean's toned stomach was a whisper away from his arched back. Dean rode him crazily, pulling his head back and swirling their tongues together. The twisted forms of their bodies pulsating fiercely, racing one another towards an orgasm. Dean dug deep, pushing up so roughly that Cas was lifted up onto his toes.

"Close.. Gonna.." Dean kissed up the back of Castiel's neck, turning his head to reach his Adam's apple. The urge building inside him. The rhythmic churning of his hips edging him closer.

Cas swooped a hand round and held Dean's spiked, tousled hair, pushing Dean's face into him.

"Me too," he gasped.

Dean dropped a hand down and wrapped his fingers around Cas's needy cock. It only took two pumps and Cas was crying out, spilling over Dean's fingers and onto the table. Dean came almost instantly when he felt Cas's warm liquid oozing down his knuckles. Tremors smashed through his body. His cock vibrated inside Cas's clenched ass.

Cas collapsed down onto the table, lying in his own mess exhausted. Dean's dick slid out of him and he heard a zipper close up. He glanced up as Dean walked into view and his softening dick nearly hardened again when he saw Dean bring his wet hand up to his lips.

Dean lapped at the cum drizzling his hand, making a show for Cas, knowing his blue, gleaming eyes were watching him.

"So good, Cas," Dean said softly as he licked his lips, swallowing the mineral taste of the cum. He kept some of it on his mouth as he bent down and kissed Cas, letting him taste himself. When he pulled back an inch Cas was running his tongue along his upper lip intrigued at the flavour.

"Did you mean it? You want to take me on a date?" Cas chewed the inside of his mouth.

"How does tomorrow night work for you?" Dean winked.

"Sounds perfect," smiled Cas.

_To be continued..._


	8. Only Got Eyes For You

Dean, surprisingly, was nervous. The warm air of summer graced over his face as he walked side by side with Castiel. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his lips were uncharacteristically dry with anticipation. He never got like this. Whenever he was trying to swoon or win over a girl he acted cool and charming. Right now, with Cas, Dean felt like he was floundering.

They were making their way down the street to a restaurant Dean had made reservations at. It was a cute Italian place Sam had suggested because it served the best pasta and pizza - pretty much all Dean's favourites. Though now all Dean could think was the many ways this date could go disastrously wrong. He wasn't exactly a _neat_ eater. There could be spaghetti sauce and dangly pasta flying everywhere and that certainly wouldn't make a good impression.

He smoothed a hand over the back of his neck, taking in a deep breath followed by a long, drawn-out exhale to calm himself. Straight away he knew he'd made too much noise. The way the air left his lips made him seem too nervous. Too agitated. Cas would know he was worried.

"Are you okay?" The dark haired man asked right on queue, as if he could read Dean's mind, breaking the awkward silence that had managed to build since they left the university dorms.

Dean turned to look at him, sticking his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual, "Yeh. I'm cool. I'm chill. You?"

_Well that most definitely was not chill! Mental face palm._

Cas combed his dark hair behind his ears, "I'm fine, thankyou."

Dean nodded like a dashboard bobble head. This was just getting painful now. He prayed the meal wouldn't continue like this. Sighing to himself he glanced across at Cas.

It was the first time Dean had seen him without his trench coat. He was wearing a crisp, white shirt with a navy bomber jacket and dark, denim jeans with brown suede shoes. In all honesty he looked amazing. Completely different from what Dean had expected. And he was weirdly calm in comparison. At least he appeared that way. His face was relaxed and clean shaven. Dean even picked up the scent of expensive cologne. A smell he'd never come across, but now all he wanted to do was press his nose against Castiel's neck and inhale that smell and kiss around his Adam's apple.

Cas flicked his gaze in Dean's direction and their eyes met. They smiled at each other. Cas's eyes were so gentle. Little creases in the corners formed when his lips curved. Dean felt a warm flutter in his stomach.

"So, um, what do we talk about on a date?" Cas asked quietly.

Dean cocked his eyebrow, "Haven't you ever been on a date before?"

Cas flushed red. Perhaps he was nervous after all.

"Sort of. I don't know. I suppose. Ugh.. I haven't really done this.. I don't really date," Cas mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.

This was a win. Dean now had the upper hand. Suddenly he felt more at ease. He was pretry much a master on the dating front. The amount of typical, long lashed women he'd wined and dined over the years gave him some knowledge on how these things played out. Surely this date with Cas would be no different. He just had to follow his usual, flirtatious setup and he'd be fine.

Smirking he patted his palms on his jeans, "So I'm your first?"

Cas nudged him with his elbow, "Shut up!"

Dean chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulder and squeezed him close. Cas giggled as he settled his head down into the crook of Dean's neck. Then Dean bowed his face and whiffed the smell of Cas's hair, sweet and freshly showered mixed with the scent of his aftershave. When they parted away the smell lingered on Dean's body.

"Well," he began, a permanent smile plastered on his face as they strolled down the street, "Normally on a date we ask about one another's upbringing, our jobs, interests, things like that."

Cas nodded, "Oh, right, yeah of course."

"And then after our meal I take you home and fuck you senseless," Dean winked.

Cas's breathing stopped short and his body instantly went rigid and alert. Dean could practically see the tightness forming in his jeans as he processed the admission. He blinked and they met eyes again, studying each other intensely.

"I'm kidding! We'll just see how this goes. No pressure remember," Dean smiled eventually, yet however hard he tried to play it off, they both knew he hadn't been kidding.

* * *

He'd tried to keep his cool. He'd played it casual from the get go. But now Castiel's already overactive mind was in overdrive. His heart was practically vibrating in his rib cage.

He couldn't even look at Dean anymore because he was sure that if the charming Mr Winchester eye-fucked him anymore he'd melt into a pool right there on the pavement and beg to be screwed.

When Dean reached over to pat Cas's arm reassuringly Cas felt his hands tremble. The nerves in his skin bursted with activity. His thoughts catapulted around his brain, pin-balling against his skull and making his temple ache.

It was him and Dean. What was there to be anxious about? They'd had sex, surely they could sit across from one another at a dinner table and engage in polite conversation without it turning weird. He'd wanted this after all; the softness and sweetness that came before the sex, yet right at this moment his stomach was cramping at the delicious thought of Dean behind him, fucking him full. It was like being around Dean for too long simply reminded him of all their previous rendezvous. It was torture.

Cas was so caught up in his head he didn't even realise when Dean led him through the door of a red bricked building. He blinked in a daze as his eyes adjusted to the soft candlelight and cosy atmosphere. There were fake, green vines twisting over the exposed stone walls and the floor was a solid oak to match the tables and chairs. An open kitchen ahead sent delicious smells in Castiel's direction. The place was bustling with activity and life. The chef calling orders and black dressed staff twirling from table to table with trays of drinks and pizzas. There were tones of people Cas recognised from University socials that Sam had dragged him too and even Dean could place a few familiar faces amongst the crowd. Instinctively Cas shifted back behind Dean, obscuring himself from view.

Dean swivelled round on his heels, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just hovering... I know it sounds weird. I'm not really a people person, that's all."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise it would be so busy," Dean shuffled his feet. They were standing by a wooden podium. Menus were displayed on some stands to their left and a sign said '**_PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED_**'. Cas stepped forward in front of Dean and peered at the menu, trying to appear a bit more confident and less pathetic. He didn't want Dean to pity him and right now he was giving off such a weak vibe.

"Don't apologise. It's fine. This place is beautiful." Immediately he cringed at himself. _Beautiful_?. How soppy could he get? Regardless his date was grinning lopsidedly at him when he looked over his shoulder.

"Great. I'm glad you like it. Sam said you like pasta too so I thought.." Dean's voice drifted off. Cas had pulled back from the stands and regarded him. Half smiling. Half wide staring. He was pleasantly surprised that Dean had taken the time to ask Sam what kind of food he liked.

"I love pasta," Cas quietly said, watching him thoughtfully. Dean gulped and then coughed to clear his throat. He rubbed the end of his chin, scratching his stubble, probably hoping Castiel would look away but he held his curious gaze.

"Can I help you there?"

A waitress with blond hair tucked back in a ponytail bounced over to them. Her face was shiny and her cheeks rosy from pacing back and forth to the hot kitchen. She had black, wide framed glasses on and a small mouth that hardly moved when she talked.

Dean moved up to her, "Hi, I've got a table booked for Winchester."

The waitress flipped open a book from behind the podium and tapped her finger down the paper, "Oh, yes. Table for two."

"Yes. That's right. And, um, is there any chance you have any tables in a quieter area?" Dean inquired. Cas blushed immediately and sank back embarrassed.

She regarded the two of them with a glance, "Let me just check."

Once she had sped away Dean turned to Cas and winked. Cas's words became a mumble in his throat. His stomach swelled with giddiness. Any more cuteness from this guy he was sure he would explode.

The waitress returned swiftly with a smile, "Right this way."

She scooped up two, leather bound menus and skipped off. Dean marched after her and Cas scurried to catch up. Dean's steps were very wide. Cas noted how his legs bowed with every stride, boots clomping on the floor, while he on the other hand had to pretty much jog to keep close.

The waitress guided them through the jungle of tables and customers, under an archway, to another area of the restaurant where the lighting was especially dim and booths lined the wall. A few other couples were dotted about talking in hushed tones.

To Cas's surprise the other patrons didn't seem to care that the two men were arriving together. It was pretty obvious they were on a date but no one even looked up.

The waitress eventually stopped at the far corner and gestured for the two to sit down. Dean nodded to Cas and he slid into the booth first, then Dean followed on the opposite side. There was mild mood music playing from a speaker on the wall above them. A red candle stuck in a wine bottle was flickering in the centre of the table and wax trickled down the sides.

"Here are your menus gentlemen, I'll be back in a few minutes to get your drinks," she handed over the menus and whisked away, adjusting her apron.

Cas smoothed down the fabric of his shirt, "This is nice. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," Dean opened the menu. The way he spoke, with such sincerity, warmed Cas's heart. He admired Dean for a few minutes, observing the way he scanned the choices on the menu, long lashes batting softly. He was wearing a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up that hugged his biceps perfectly and a white v neck tshirt underneath. The black jeans he had on were fitted against his legs and Cas had sneaked a few glances at his toned ass while they'd walked here. He looked casual yet well presented at the same time.

Over the past few weeks Cas had found himself, without meaning to, watching Dean when he wasn't aware. He sometimes even tried to count the freckles on his face but then Dean would shift or look up and Cas would have to start all over again. Mostly he liked being near Dean. Close enough to just look at him. **_Really_** look. Dean had a face that was the perfect balance of sharp and soft.

He tipped the menu forward suddenly so Cas could see his pink lips while he spoke, "What are you thinking of having?"

Cas darted his eyes down the list of dishes quickly, "Carbonara sounds nice."

Dean put his elbows on the table, his forearms slightly red from all the sun, and flicked to the next page in the menu, "It does. There's pizza on the next page if you fancy that. Can't go wrong with pizza."

Cas laughed, "Pizza would hit the spot."

"I'll always hit your spot," Dean smirked under his breath. Cas looked at him surprised and Dean licked his lips as if to add more punch to his words. The candlelight made his bottom lip glimmer with wetness.

Cas should have just laughed it off. But instead his throat clenched and his cock started heating up in his lap. How was it possible for Dean to turn him on with just a snarky comment?

Dean chuckled and returned to reading the menu and that seemed to handle the situation. Cas was secretly thankful. He wasn't sure what he would have said had Dean expected a seductive reply. His heart rate was soaring.

"Do you like red wine?" asked Dean after a moment.

Cas licked his lips anxiously, "Um, y-yes.. Sometimes. Do you?"

"I drink anything," Dean replied with a shrug, "We could order a bottle of something if you like? Pick a wine."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Yeh, 'course."

They smiled at each other. Once again Cas's stomach burst into a flutter of emotion. He was still grinning to himself when the waitress came skipping over and asked what they wanted to drink.

Dean cocked his head in Castiel's direction, indicating for him to make the choice, so Cas timidly requested a bottle of Merlot which the waitress scribbled down.

"Could we perhaps order our food now too? You seem quite busy out front, it would save some time," Dean said. The waitress nodded, cheeks flushing red when Dean flashed her a grateful smile.

Cas frowned. Of course she would find him attractive. Heck, he was practically glowing in the candlelight like a Greek god. Even when he gestured for Cas to order first the waitress never lifted her gaze from Dean's face.

"Could I please have the Carbonara?" Cas asked, smiling politely and trying to keep his cool. The waitress noted it down and blinked at Dean.

"A margarita pizza please," said Dean.

"Perfect, I'll return with your wine in just a moment," the waitress said, watching Dean as she backed away, like he was a golden bar, all bright and shiny. Cas wanted to stab her with his fork. He was pleased when she slinked off with the menus and even more pleased when Dean linked their feet together under the table comfortingly.

"I'm glad we're doing this," he said.

"Me too. I didn't think you'd agree," Cas rubbed his ankle against Dean's, feeling the pressure against his skin, making the hairs on his legs static.

"I almost didn't. I was worried. About dating a guy. About my Dad's reaction. But Sam talked some sense into me. Screw what everyone else says. I'm going after what I want now," Dean explained, lifting his boot and lightly grazing up Cas's shin, "And I want _you_."

Cas exhaled through his nose, "Really? Because I want you too."

The corners of Dean's mouth tugged up. He reached over and laced his fingers into Cas's. Their hands explored; Cas tracing the lines on Dean's knuckles with the tips of his fingers, Dean circling Cas's warm palms gently with his nails. They found a comfortable position to grasp, both their wrists resting down and their interlocked hands raised, just as the waitress returned with the bottle of wine and two glasses. Cas couldn't hold back the beaming, smug smile on his lips as she poured out the dark, purpley red liquid.

When she disappeared again Cas picked up the glass with his other hand then took a long gulp. The taste swirled down his throat and a heavenly buzz sang in his head. His eyelids fluttered happily and he pushed his bottom lip through his teeth. Dean's eyes sparkled at this as he scooped up his own wine with his free hand and sipped seductively. When he pulled the glass away his lips were plump and gleaming red with wine. Cas wanted to taste him immediately. The richness of his tongue. The trickle of wine inside his cheeks. He had to swallow another mouthful to keep himself from lingering on the dirty thought of Dean's mouth.

Before long he was two glasses down, halfway through his carbonara and steaming with newfound confidence. Like with each drink he was shedding the layers of nervousness.

"So what is your job then? The mysterious work that calls you here, there and everywhere?" Cas giggled, topping up his glass with more wine (which probably wasn't the best idea).

Dean had his ankle grinding against Castiel's as they ate, "I fix cars and er, hunt."

"Hunt?" Cas twirled his fork in his pasta and popped some into his mouth. The image of Dean dressed in full hunting gear with a rifle and such interested him.

"Yeah. Family business," Dean explained. Some sauce squeezed out of his pizza down his fingers and he suckled on the tomatoey taste. Cas watched him lustfully.

"See something you like?" Dean laughed, swiping his tongue around his red lips. His foot brushed up Cas's calf, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make Cas almost groan out loud with delight. His face flushed and his mouth parted.

Then all at once the feel of Dean on his leg vanished. Cas eyed him curiously, watching him suddenly shuffle on the spot. There was the sound of fabric shifting, moving, jean against leather, then a boot clomping down gently on the wood.

Cas was baffled for only a second as almost immediately his attention was directed to the sensation of Dean's bare foot gliding up past his knee, round his thigh. He could feel the warmth of Dean's toes against his trousers, the contact sending fiery hot blood straight to his cock. Dean must have sensed the tension. His naked foot slid along Cas's inner thigh towards the seam in his trousers where a growing bulge was emerging.

Dean's eyes raked over Cas, his brow turned down with seriousness. There was a level of darkness in his stare that Cas was almost intimidated by, almost fearful, but the edge of Dean's mouth curved just slightly enough that Cas knew he was devilishly content. This was the kind of torture Dean got off on. His foot grazed against the zipper of Cas's jeans and his jade eyes got heavier. Softly he curved his toes against the hardened member packed tightly inside. Cas had to clench his teeth to conceal a strangled, raspy groan. A small whimper still managed to creep through. It was enough to make the man sitting opposite him shudder. Dean _really_ got off on this.

Castiel's heart was positively throbbing in his chest as Dean continued to massage his foot against his dick. He could already feel a bead of pre-cum slipping out of his slit and dampening his underwear. If Dean kept this up he was going to be splattering the inside of his black boxers white in seconds.

"_Dean_.." He managed to breath.

"This is just the start Cas," Dean leaned in. Cas moved to the edge of his seat too, eager to be closer, drawn in like oxygen. Dean's foot pressed harder against his groin.

"Dean, I-"

"Mr Novak?"

Cas whipped his head up and stared at the tall, suited gentleman standing by his table. He snapped both his hands into his lap embarassed. The colour drained from his cheeks.

"Professor Balthazar.. I didn't expect to see you here," Cas chocked.

The professor chuckled, "Evidently." Cas felt faint. He flicked a look at Dean. He was sitting back now, tapping his fingers on his glass, looking severely handsome as always. His foot was still sneakily pressed up against Cas's erection, which surprisingly hadn't gone down.

"I must say Mr Novak you're looking well. _Really_ well," Professor Balthazar rested his arm on the top of the booth, just behind Cas's head. The crosshatch fabric of his suit jacket brushed against Cas's hair. Dean notably tensed.

"Thankyou, sir," Cas mumbled.

"And I'm assuming this the boy you were telling me about?" The professor grinned. Dean pressed his toes firmly against Cas's cock at the mention of his name. Cas's eyes widened. He prayed that his teacher wouldn't notice the sexual act occurring under the table.

"Dean Winchester," Dean nodded in the professors direction. Then he took a drink from his glass. He was smiling but his eyes were fierce and blazing.

The professor bared his teeth in a daring grin and turned his face to Castiel, trapping him in his icy stare, "I didn't mean to interrupt your little.. 'Date' Mr Novak, I just wanted to ask if you would be willing to come speak to me sometime soon."

Cas tried not to squirm in his seat as Dean wickedly kneaded his foot against his swollen length, "Oh, I-"

"Nothing serious," Professor Balthazar interjected, "A little chat. Just us two. There's a lot I'd like to discuss." He brought his hand up to his white shirt and slowly loosened his tie, popping the button of his collar and exposing his neck further. There was no doubt that the professor was flirting and for some reason Dean was getting more and more sexually driven with this audience. Cas found it all so strangely thrilling.

"Um, sure, we could-" he bit his lip.

Under the table Dean was rhythmically dragging his foot up and down Cas's groin, coaxing him closer to a shivery orgasm. In his pants Cas was positively soaked from dribbling precum. He was shaking with the sheer excitement and danger of the whole situation.

"We could?" Professor Balthazar queried, leaning closer, the smell of his expensive cologne forced into Castiel's face.

He gulped back a groan, "We could meet after class next week if that suits you."

Every sense seemed to pulsate in Cas's ears, like pounding water from a waterfall, crashing through his body. He dug his nails into the wooden to try and fight the urges to scream. There was an internal magnet in his core, drawing in all the tingly pleasure, stacking it up, preparing for the explosion that would lead to an avalanche of ecstasy. It would floor him. Bury him. Consume him. He was sure of it. And with each push of Dean's foot the tension maximised in his body. He could practically taste the orgasm.

His head was so fuzzy he barely heard his professor, "Perfect. See you then Mr Novak. I look forward to it. Nice to meet you _Dean_."

Dean exaggeratedly waved. His foot was going crazy against Cas's red hot dick. Professor Balthazar smirked. His fingers suddenly roamed down over Castiel's shoulders suggestively and he squeezed before turning on the heels of his Italian leather shoes and sauntering away.

When his teacher was a safe distance away Cas collapsed forward onto the table, surrendering at last, allowing the sensation to take hold. Immediately it was like tumbling into a deep ravine, flipping and spiralling through the exhilaration. A rush so hot, so quick. His body burned. Like millions of ants were biting up his skin. Streams of cum shot into his boxers and lap. He couldn't even scream. Couldn't even make a sound. Instead he let the background music fill the void where pleasured cries would have been. The eventual comedown brought shivers to his spine.

"**_DEAN_**," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"I make you feel that good. I do that. Not him," said Dean, his foot finally slipping away from Cas's body.

"I would never.. He's my teacher."

Dean gritted his teeth, "Exactly. The way he was touching you Cas.. It was driving me crazy."

"I want you, Dean. No one else," said Cas.

Dean smiled, "Good. I was just making sure you were aware. It's me and only me from here on out though. I don't share."

"Me either."

"Oh, you have nothing to worry about," Dean replied. He drank his glass till it was empty and rose from his seat, moving quickly. All at once he was in front of Cas, cupping his face, pulling his trembling body close. He leaned in so that when he spoke his wine flavoured breath brushed Cas's lips.

"I've only got eyes for you," he whispered and Cas believed him. They stared at each other, knowing that something deeper was going to spiral from this. Something freeing and new and uncontrollable. With realisation Dean scooped Cas from the booth into an embrace and kissed him, his desperate touches and tender lips radiating promise and purpose.

_To be continued..._


	9. Forever Love

**It's been so long since I've been able to write this story but I wanted to try and start posting again! Hope you guys like this..**

* * *

It's hard to tell when it happened. Was it the first time they'd woken up in each other's arms? Their first year anniversary, when they returned to that little Italian restaurant? The day they moved into their apartment together? It seemed impossible to pinpoint the exact moment he knew, because it felt like it had always been, like he couldn't even imagine his life beforehand. Regardless there was one definitive truth. Castiel Novak had fallen for Dean Winchester. And although Dean would never say the words out loud, he'd fallen for Cas too...

* * *

It was the rich smell of coffee wafting into Cas's nose that first stirred him. Sunlight was glaring through the blinds into his eyes when he blinked awake. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness he spotted Dean perched by the window, twiddling with the blinds, adjusting the slats so that the light wasn't too harsh.

He turned when Cas shifted onto his elbow, "Oh, didn't mean to wake you."

Cas rubbed a knuckle into the corner of his eye, "Don't worry about it, I need to get up early anyway. Meg will slaughter me if I'm late."

Dean smirked and padded his way over the bed, crawling up Cas's body and stopping when his nose was brushing his boyfriends.

"What time do we have to leave?" He planted a kiss on Cas's smooth cheek then round his neck.

Cas mewled and slowly shifted his head back to give Dean more access, "Sam's coming for us at 9."

Dean glanced over to the bedside table where a big round alarm clock was sat next to a romance novel Cas was reading and a framed photo of them together on holiday.

"We've got nearly two hours baby," he whispered in Cas's ear, nibbling at the bottom of his lobe. Castiel moaned. Part of him hadn't properly woken up yet; his body was in a hazy daze, muscles relaxed and mind foggy. The soothing sensation of Dean's lips on his throat made his naked body quiver weakly. He reached for Dean, entwining his fingers around his back and drawing him in closer. The heat radiating of him was electric.

Dean curled his hand in the white sheets and drew them back. For a moment he simply looked at Cas, drinking in the sight of his body. His green eyes were heavy under the dark curtain of lashes and he gazed down with such adoration that Cas blushed profusely. He blushed whenever Dean looked at him like this, like it was the first time all over again.

"You're perfect, you know that?" Dean said with a husky voice. His warm hand glided up Cas's thigh, making the hairs on his legs stand up.

"Will you just kiss me please?" Cas groaned. His dick was already hard and it lay against his abdomen leaking pre cum. He dropped his fingers to the waistband of Dean's boxer shorts, thumbing the fabric suggestively.

Dean dipped forward and pressed his pink lips onto Castiel's mouth, suckling on his bottom lip and nibbling at the tender flesh. Cas breathed heavily out his nose. With a lump in his throat he reached up and grabbed hold of Dean's head, revelling in the feel of the tousled hair moving through his fingertips.

As they kissed Dean shuffled out of his underwear, then reached and yanked the sheets back over them. Cas murmured lightly, his hand still combing through Dean's mane .  
His muscled body was heavy atop of him and fiery to the touch. The way he moved, shifting his hips into a tantalising position, made Cas's stomach flutter like a candle in the breeze. Dean started kneading round his thighs. Running his hands down Cas's back. Licking up his neck. Drawing him in. Initiating the act of making love that they had perfected so well over the past year.

Being with Dean was everything. Moments like these, rolling around in the sheets together, Cas felt his heart bloom and unfold. He touched his palm on Dean's chest. The racing thump of his heart strummed, matching the flow in his own veins. Their pumping blood creating a symphony of beats, fitting together and bouncing off each other in sweet harmony while they rolled into a swirling rhythm.

The alarm clock made a slight ticking. In the streets below cars honked and revved. Birds tweeted. Laundry flapped in the wind. And Cas blocked out the sounds, one by one, silencing them in his mind till the only noise he could hear was Dean panting in his ear and the beating of their hearts combined...

* * *

Cas picked an oversized, grey, v-neck top from the floor and slipped it over his wet hair. His body was still damp and patches of wetness seeped into the t-shirt. He ruffled the cream towel against his head as he left the steamy bathroom and walked barefoot, and half-naked, into the open plan kitchen/living area.

"I made a new pot of coffee. The other stuff had gone cold," Dean hollered. He was laying on the brown leather sofa in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt flicking through the pages of a TV magazine. A half-empty cup of steamy coffee was caught in his fist.

Cas skipped to the counter to pour his drink into a white mug, lazily fiddling with the bottom of the t-shirt; it was big enough that it brushed against the tops of his thighs. Dean eventually looked up from what he was reading and glanced over.

"Is that my shirt?"

Cas picked up his mug and spun round to lean on the kitchen island, the t-shirt riding up just enough that if Dean edged sideways he could sneak a peak at Castiel's perky butt.

"Sure is," he winked and sipped his coffee.

"Good thing I didn't open the blinds yet, wouldn't wanna give the neighbours a show," Dean smirked. All along the brick walls to the east of the apartment were huge floor to ceiling windows and when the blinds were drawn back the glorious sunrise engulfed the entire living quarters. It was what had made Cas fall in love with the place when they'd first viewed it on an early January morning. And once Dean had seen the sparkling smile on Cas's face, the glow of the sun in his eyes, he couldn't say no. They'd signed the papers by lunchtime.

"What do you fancy for breakfast?" asked Cas.

Dean flung the magazine onto the coffee table and bounced up enthusiastically, "Anything. I'm starving."

"Well there's nothing in the fridge. I still need to go shopping remember. I didn't get chance yesterday because Meg kept ringing me up and begging me to run errands for her," Cas glugged his coffee, "This art exhibition is making her into the friend from hell. I had to trail all over town to pick up the champagne flutes. You can't let me forget them by the way. There's two boxes in the hallway."

Dean shimmied up behind Cas, his big hands holding him around the waist, "I'll remember." He pecked at Cas's collar bone.

Cas rocked back, "You better. Maybe you could pop to that cafe on the corner and pick us up some sandwiches while I get dressed?"

"Sure, sounds good to me," Dean smoothed one of his hands under the fabric of the t-shirt, "Did I happen to mention that you look sexy as hell wearing my clothes?"

"Did I happen to mention that I'm hungry?" Cas laughed, "Get me some FOOD!" He quickly snapped his hips and pushed his butt out against Dean's groin.

Dean humphed back a few steps. His hands cupped his junk protectively, "Hey, watch the goods!"

Cas turned round and elbowed his tanned boyfriend playfully in the stomach, "Then move it. You said yourself you're starving; go get us something to eat!"

A barking laugh burst out of Dean's lips. He dodged Cas's next tickling attack and coiled his arm around his partners stomach. Cas squirmed giddily. His hands came down in jokey, battering swings.

"Get off you big lump!" He cackled just as Dean lifted him off the floor and jostled him in the air so he was hanging over a thick shoulder. He thrashed his legs, roaring and squealing. Dean's hands were all over his skin, poking at his ribs, pinching at his exposed ass.

"PUT ME DO-!" Cas choked into a laugh and wriggled around in hysterics. His stomach was starting to hurt under the strain but he was so caught up in being swung here, there and everywhere that he barely cared.

Finally, when both their laughter had subsided, Dean let Cas's body slip down with his steady arms till his feet graced the floor. His hands however remained entwined around Cas's back. The soft trickle of his fingers trailed up and down Castiel's spine tenderly. He had that look on his face, gazing down at Cas like there were a million thoughts racing through his mind. A lopsided smile eventually curved on his lips.

"Sooooo," Cas trailed the 'o' vowel dramatically, "How about that breakfast?" Dean just shook his head with a defeated grin, his hands dropping to Cas's thin waist.

"Maybe bring back donuts too," Cas said sweetly, shifting his weight on his feet from side to side. He batted his eyes at Dean sarcastically. Dean chuckled under his breath and spun round to head for the door.

Quickly Cas reached his hand out and grabbed onto Dean's, "Oh, and one more thing... " He leaned up, pressed their lips together softly, "I love you."

Dean's eyes filled with warmth, "I know."

* * *

The sky was near spotless; like someone had wiped a cloth across the blue, glassy surface and cleaned away all the grey and white clouds. Dean was gazing up at the view through the sun roof from the backseat humming to pass the time. Every so often branches of yellow and orange flittered by above casting amber toned rays into the car.

"Yes, I know, Meg. I've got them. They're in the backseat with Dean." Cas was talking into his mobile, making exaggerated movements with his arms. Dean could practically hear Meg's exclaimed disgust that HE had been left in charge of the 'delicate' champagne flutes.

"No, he's not gonna break them. Meg, he wouldn't do that out of SPITE. Would you?" Cas flipped round from the front seat and lifted his eyebrows questioningly in Dean's direction. Dean cocked one eyebrow cheekily and pressed his tongue against his cheek. Cas rolled his eyes and returned to reassuring his friend.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean leant forward, speaking in a hushed tone, "How much further?"  
Sam combed a hand through his hair, "Half an hour maybe?"

The car hit a rough patch of road and the boxes of glasses by Dean's side shook, the flutes tinkling like a wind chime.

"You sure this is the right road, Sam?" Dean placed his arm over the two boxes to keep them steady.

"Yes, Dean. The gallery is in the next town over, I know where I'm going," Sam retorted sharply.

Dean put his other hand up apologetically. "Okay, okay, little brother. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"Jerk," Sam muttered.

"Bitch," Dean snorted

Cas finished talking and put his phone on the dashboard, "It's a wonder you two managed to get any hunting done. You're both a pair of kids." There were no secrets between Cas and Dean now. Cas knew every detail of Dean's previous profession', which had been put on hold as of late.

Dean shrugged, "Hey, I kept him alive didn't I?"

Sam rolled his shoulders with a chuckle, "Oh, here he goes. Always the hero. Not like I never saved his ass a thousand times?"

"And you never let me forget it! Though I'm pretty sure you were the one getting your butt kicked last time we hunted together?" Dean laughed.

"When? Back in Mississippi with that witch?" Sam tapped the steering wheel, "Dude, I was distracting her. You were supposed to swoop in on my call. I wrestled that old lady for a good fifteen minutes before you showed."

Dean laughed, "I apologised! I was finishing my sandwich." This time they both cracked up. Cas giggled at them.

Of course Dean missed hunting. Reminiscing reminded him of the excitement. The thrill and the rush and the action. But in the end it was too dangerous. He didn't wanna risk dragging Cas into that life and he sure as hell didn't want Cas being used against him by any sort of enemy. He cared too much.

When he blinked up, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, Cas was watching him from the rear view mirror and smiling. Neither of them saw the tree lying on the road when the car turned a bend till Sam swore loudly.

Then everyone's eyes flashed ahead.

Dean couldn't think fast enough. He tried to throw his hands forward and hold Cas back while reaching for the wheel but it came too quick.

Sam swerved abruptly. The car launched sideways. Dean's head snapped back and pain shot up from his spine to his throbbing temple. The boxes to his side hurtled onto the car floor and an insane smashing sound echoed in his ears. There was skidding. And screaming. And screeching.

Without warning the car hit something sharply and suddenly they were airborne. Hanging in a moment.

Turning.

Rolling.

Flipping.

Dean couldn't figure out what way was up. The sky seemed to bounce around, one second it was above him and the next it was below him. Shards of glass whizzed past his eyes. He saw the back of Cas's chair and the mop of his dark hair where his head was. There was a crunch. Metal groaning. More glass breaking. It was like a fairground ride and Dean couldn't get off. His stomach heaved at the uncontrollable motion till there was a climatic crunch. Then in an instant Dean's life went blank.

* * *

When he felt himself coming to it was like a wrecking ball of sensations. Everything ached in one moment. In the stillness and darkness Dean thought it would be the end. There was no way he could feel anymore pain. His bones were trembling. But with each blink of his eyes adrenaline started to vibrate through his body. The instinct to get up. The instinct to protect.

"Cas? Sam?" His throat felt twisted, like someone had dragged a rake along his voice box.

"Dean.."

Cas. Cas's voice. Dean's eyes finally adjusted and focussed. Blue. The sky. He was outside. The ground beneath him felt slightly damp and muddy. An earthy texture brushed his skin. Very slowly he became aware of his surroundings. Branches and trees crept into his vision. Despite the surges of pain he willed himself to push up. As he did so a burning flash of hurt clawed on his head. He grunted, inhaling deep and trying to ignore mind-numbing feeling.

With gritted teeth he lifted his head from the ground, grabbing on to the grass and pulling his torso up too. His whole world tilted on its axis and for a brief moment his vision spun like a drying drum.

"Dean?" Cas murmured, his voice strangled and strange. The usual bounce in his tone missing.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean exclaimed. Dizzily he looked around for his brother. The sight of the wreckage scarring his mind. Twisted clumps of metal lay strewn around the shell of Sam's car and glass was sprinkled like confetti in all directions, but no Sammy.

"He went for help. He's fine Dean," Cas coughed. Dean turned to where Castiel's voice was coming from.

Blood. Glaringly red blood, so bright against the green of the grass and leaves. That's all Dean saw. His Cas was lying on his back, staring up at the treetops, pale hands curled around his stomach protectively.

Before the pain could even strike him Dean was rushing to Cas's side, "Cas! What happened? Are you okay? Where's the blood coming from Cas?"

"Sam's getting help," Cas repeated. He seemed so still. The way he watched Dean with a chilling calmness. Almost like he wasn't worried.

Dean calmed his panicked voice, trying to match Cas's composure and raked his hand down his hair, "Where does it hurt baby?"

"My stomach," Cas whispered. His hands were still guarding the wound, so Dean carefully peeled them back to assess the damage. Sick rose up his throat instantly but he forced himself to look deeper. It was like mangled mince. All violently, deep red. He couldn't even tell where the blood was coming from, it just kept flowing out everywhere. When he finally turned away in disgust his hands were painted with Cas's DNA.

"How long will Sam be?" Dean asked, shaking his head.

"Not sure... He's meeting the ambulance on the road..," Cas coughed, "Can you... hold me please?"

Dean sighed sadly, "I'm not sure I should move you."

"Please, Dean."

"You're just so delicate Cas. If I moved you and I made you worse.."

"Dean. Hold me," Cas pleaded.

With a gulp Dean nodded and sat down on the ground. Carefully he scooped Cas's frail body into his arms and then gently pulled him into his lap.

For a few moments they just lay there, trying to ignore the stench of blood or the state of destruction around them. The wind was light against their skin and they listened for the sound of footsteps and help. Yet as the sun moved over the sky all the things Dean never said, all the chances to tell Cas he loved him, came tumbling against him like bricks till he couldn't contain it anymore.

"Cas, I'm sorry," Dean began.

"Sorry for what? You've got nothing to be sorry for," replied Cas kindly with a smile.

"I'm sorry for not telling you how I felt. I should have said it. I should of said it every day Cas. Every moment we spent together I should have told you what you meant to me. I was scared, okay, but I should have just said it and I'm not scared now," Dean stroked Cas's palms. Soft. Just like the first day they ever met. Those little details imprinted in Dean's mind.

"It's okay Dean. You don't have to say it. I've always known," Cas said. The words starting to come out slow with large pauses for breath between them. His mouth dry and throat course.

"But I do. I love you. I _love_ you Castiel. To the moon and back. I love you so much that it kills me to see you in pain. God, I am so much better because I know you Cas, so much better because I have you in my life. You brought me out of the dark. So that's why you have to hold on. Just hold on. Sam's going to come back and your going to be fine," Dean squeezed Cas's fingers. A horrible, gut wrenching sensation churned in his stomach. He tried to ignore it, simply rocking Cas gently. His baby.

"Dean.. I'm not.. I'm not going to be fine," Cas's eyes began to flicker with exhaustion. He was sucking in ragged breaths. The whites of his eyes were a wet, bloodshot mess.

"No. Don't you dare. You don't start that... I'd give anything for you to be okay right now," Dean rested his head against Cas's forehead. It was insanely hot.

"Even the Impala," Cas chuckled and then he began coughing, spluttering flecks of blood into the air. Dean reached down and rubbed his chest till the coughing subsided and wiped away the drops of blood from his lips. The horrible metallic tang invaded Cas's mouth. It saddened him. He didn't want the blood to be the last thing he tasted. He wanted Dean's lips on his, the flavour of Dean's sweet mouth to be scarred into his soul for eternity.

"There will always be other cars, there's only one Cas," Dean smiled halfheartedly, another tear running down his cheek. He didn't wanna upset Cas but the tears kept on flooding down his face.

"I'm going to miss you, Dean. I'm going to miss everything we could've been. I had big dreams for us. I couldn't help it, I planned it all out in my head, because I loved you," Cas paused, "I will _always_ love you." He lifted his quivering hand and held it on Dean's face. The roughness of the stubble tingling the senses in his fingertips. He was trying to unload all his thoughts. There was so much that he wanted to say and so little time to say it all. He just couldn't muster the energy to get all his words out at once.

"Shhh. We're still going to make those dreams happen baby. We're gonna buy a house, somewhere in the woods where it can just be me and you. You'd like that, yeah?" Dean asked, Cas nodded his head, wincing ever so slightly, "And we'll buy a dog. Something with shaggy hair. And you'll write a book. You're so talented. It's going to be the best book ever written. I just know it. And I will work on the cars and go hunting. I can open up a repairs garage. Then when I come home from work you can look at me and smile the way my mom used to smile at my Dad. And most importantly we will get married. I don't care where we have to go or what we have to do or how long we have to wait; I'm going to marry you Cas. All I need is for you to be my husband. You and me, together, we are _unstoppable_." Dean kissed Cas's scratched fingers as they slid past his lips.

"Unstoppable," Cas repeated, closing his eyes again slowly. Exhaling loudly.

"Listen to me. Stay awake. Sam's coming. Not long now," Dean turned, scanning the trees for any sign of Sam, his heart thumping with panic. Sam had to get here soon. The blood was starting to dry on his palms and there was a large red stain on his jeans. He focussed on Cas. The paleness of his face. The colour was draining out of him, oozing out with the blood.

Cas opened his sad eyes and gazed at Dean, "I'm dying..."

"No your not. Because we have so much still to do. Don't you get it Cas. This is it. The big one. The love you read about in all those god damn books; the forever love. Me and you. Forever. Do you understand?" Dean leaned down and spoke into Cas's hair, cradling his head in his lap, tears soaking the dark, mottled locks. He gripped tightly on to Cas's hand again.

"Forever love.." Cas whispered, his voice trailing and cracking. He looked up at Dean, big blue eyes soaking in all the features on his face for the last time, the skies beckoning him in the background. Sunshine glistened through the treetops. In the distance he was sure he heard the melodic whistle of a blue bird. He glanced one final time into Dean's beautiful eyes, till he was swimming in the shades of meadow green, colours so enchanting. Colours of Dean. _Dean_. One last tear broke down his cheek, then his eyelids slipped close and his hand fell limp in his loves grasp.

"Cas?" Dean shook Cas gently. Nothing. He stroked his hand over and over to no avail.

"Cas?" His voice broke, "Wake up. I love you Cas. I need you. Wake up. Please. I-I don't know how to be happy without you.." Cas's face was white. The light drained from his once radiating cheeks.

"Cas... Please.. Don't leave me... We are the forever love.." Dean sobbed, holding Cas close to his chest so that Cas's head leant on his heart. His body trembled, vision blurred by tears. He started wailing. An inhuman sound curling from the pit of his stomach and echoing through the trees. The sound drowned out everything. Flocks of birds scattering in fear. His Cas was gone. Actually gone. Just like that. No warning. Simply snapped away. And the pain was flooring him, rocketing through him like a bullet, tearing apart his soul.

"You can't do this to me!" Dean screamed into Cas's head, the black hairs tangling in his mouth, saliva and uncontrollable tears sticking the strands to his cheeks. He was praying that Cas would hear him and come back. If he shouted loud enough he could get through to him.

Dean's voice shrank, getting hoarse and hushed as his screams died down to a pained whimper, "You can't die! You can't make me love you and then just leave me.."

He wanted to keep screaming, till his throat ached and his face was blue but there was nothing let. His voice box was empty. Everything was empty. His mouth just gawped open as he cried.

_To be continued..._


	10. Quiet Mornings

**Wow. I know it's been forever since I last posted but I've been at Uni and the stress was unreal! So sorry! I'm trying very hard to keep updated with this story, I promise! Thankyou for the support!**

* * *

The grass was flowing around Dean's ankles. A sea of faded green and sun toned yellow strands pulling him along. Above him the sky was a soft haven of glowing white with little particles of floating light dancing in the breeze. Warily he lifted his hand up into the air and allowed one of the orbs to bounce off his palm. It felt like the soft head of a dandelion. Then an echoey voice murmured in the distance.

He looked up.

Everything was so hazy and shadows moved in front of his eyes, but over the hills of grass he could see a blurred figure.

Cautiously Dean stepped forward. The grass seemed to swallow his steps. Sucking him to the spot. He slowly stepped again and again, though each time he tried to lift his feet off the ground an invisible weight clawed to hold him down.

Gradually the figure started getting closer. With every tiresome step Dean began to see the man in focus. The man in the trench coat. _Cas_.

It suddenly seemed like no force could pull Dean down. His legs were rapid gunfire as he raced through the overwhelming fatigue.

"Dean!" Cas shouted at him, waving his arms frantically in the air. The wind was tossing his dark hair around and flicking it over his eyes. Those cobalt eyes. Dean stared at them as he battled on.

"I'm coming, Cas! Hold on!"

The wind started surging, knocking Dean from side to side. He stumbled and steadied himself in the long grass but as he tried to pull himself up the earth tugged him down.

Over the tips of the grass Dean could see Cas approaching only a few metres away. But then the grass started growing. It's long strands extending up and blocking his vision. The brightness almost immediately vanished, along with Cas's beautiful face.

"Dean!" He cried out. Dean clenched his fists around the tufts of grass and pulled, clawing them apart. He had to see Cas.

"Dean!" More grass. More shadows.

"DEAN!" Darkness.

"**DEAN**!"

He jolted up.

Sam was standing in front of his bed with a sad look in his eyes and Jess hovered over his shoulder.

"You were having a nightmare, Dean," Sam explained softly, patting Dean's arm like he was a weak child, "We are here now. Are you okay?"

Dean rubbed the back of his hand over his tired eyes and felt dampness on his fingers. He had been crying. Again.

For a moment he stared at his hands and the tears trickling down through the creases in his palms. It didn't matter how many times he washed them; all he saw was blood. Cas's blood. No amount of scrubbing could clean away that image.

Jess bent down beside Dean's bedside, "Do you want something to eat?"

Dean shook his head.

"You can talk to us. You do know that, don't you?"

Dean nodded.

He hadn't spoken much since the accident. It wasn't that he didn't want to; he knew that his brother would be worried by his silence. It was just that he didn't know what to say. What words would be enough to sum up how he felt? Sad? Angry? Alone.

Jess gave a meek smile, "We'll let you rest then. But maybe you could come through and watch an old film later? It might distract you."

Dean nodded and Jess left the room. Sam started to follow her but stopped in the doorway.

"He knew you loved him, Dean. That's what matters. He knew."

Once Sam left the room was silent. Dean waited till he heard the patter of feet disappear down the hall, then he pulled the duvet up to his chin and closed his eyes.

* * *

It was a grey day. Black, daunting clouds rolled in on the wind and the drizzles of rain quickly became a downpour. Dean had hoped it would be a sunny day. Cas deserved to be buried on a day as bright and warm as he was.

Dean was sitting at the window of Sam's apartment in his suit watching the sky when he heard the gentle tap of heels.

"We're going to leave soon," Said Jess.

Dean sunk back in his chair and Jess crouched down beside him so that they were eye to eye.

"Listen to me, if this is too hard we don't have to go. If you can't do it, we all understand."

Tears started to stream down Dean's cheeks and into his stubble. He hadn't shaved in days.

"I have to be there for him," he mumbled.

"Okay. Do you need a moment?"

Dean rubbed away his tears and straightened in his seat, "No, we can't be late. You know how he got whenever I was late."

Jess tried to smile and a little laugh forced out her mouth. She cupped Dean's face with her hands.

"Well then, better not keep him waiting."

Sam drove the Impala. For the first time in a long time Dean sat in the back. He stared out the window and didn't say a word the whole journey. Rain drops snaked through his vision. Then they pulled up outside the church and for Dean it felt like the time stopped.

He watched glassy-eyed as streams of people in black with big umbrellas walked up through the church gardens and through a big set of doors. His heart bashed in his chest. Every breath felt like sandpaper grinding against his throat. He heard Sam say something about parking but the words just muffled in his ears. Then someone opened his door and pulled him out by the arm.

He shuffled with the rest of the crowds with his head swaying from side to side. Sam was at his left holding an umbrella over him and Jess was tucked at his right rubbing his back. Water dripped all around him. Puddles splashed at his feet. It felt like the earth was weeping with him.

They dipped under the church doors and Dean felt his throat tighten instantly. It was quiet. People were slipping into the pews. He recognised a few faces, like that girl from the coffee shop, but Cas seemed to know everyone so the seats were filling up fast.

Jess looped her arm through Dean's and they walked down a red carpet toward the front of the church. A giant stain glass window was centred ahead of them. Though the sky had seemed dark, light was cast through the glass and vibrant yellow and green rays were splaying on the floor. One beam of heavenly white shone perfectly onto the casket that lay beneath the window. _Cas_.

Dean's legs trembled. Sam quickly urged them all to sit down but Dean still felt a shaking in his knees. His hands felt like they were being stung by a thousand bees.

Once everyone was seated the reverend stood up at the front of the church on a podium. The moment he opened his mouth Dean zoned out. His eyes focused on the casket and nothing else. He stood when he congregation stood, he bowed his head when they bowed theirs, but his eyes stayed fixed on Cas.

Slowly the church began to fade away and in his mind he saw brightness. Sunshine. He watched as the light danced across Cas's casket, smothering the wood in a warmth that melted into Dean's mind. When he resurfaced from his thoughts the reverend was wrapping up the service.

His stomach lurched.

He had to say something. His trembling hand broke out into the air.

"I-I'd like to say something," he said to the reverend. The reverend nodded so Dean slipped out of his pew and walked to the podium. Staring out at all those faces, people who loved Cas, made his throat go dry.

"Hi. Um, well, thankyou all for coming. If I'm being honest I'm not sure what to say. I don't know what will be enough. For those of you who don't know, I'm Dean. I was Castiel's..Um... Well... Cas was my person..."

Sam and Jess smiled at him, urging him to continue. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. In his mind he pictured Cas. Then he took a breath.

"When we met I was different. I didn't believe in love. But Cas, my Cas, he had a way about him, a sparkle, and he made me feel things I never imagined I could feel. He filled a void I never even knew I had. If he cared about you, then when you were with him you were the centre of his world. In his eyes no one would matter but you. It was like he blurred everyone else out. And it was the best feeling ever," Dean choked quietly, "I was lucky enough to be the centre of Cas's world for a little while, and he will forever be the centre of mine."

He opened his eyes and everyone was watching him. A few people were dabbing their tears away with tissues. Jess silently cried into Sam's shoulder.

Dean glanced back at the casket, pressed his fingers to his quivering lips and planted them down on the wood of the coffin. _My forever love._

The rest of the day past in a blur. People came back to Sam's apartment for food and drink but Dean ignored them all. He slipped quietly to his room, locked the door and crawled into bed.

* * *

Weeks past. Eventually Dean moved back into his apartment. But it was cold and scarily empty without Cas. He mourned the light that Cas had brought with him, the light that no longer shone within the apartment walls.

Dean found that his presumptions of mourning weren't at all how he imagined. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't a Shakespearean tragedy; all poignant anecdotes and collapsing at Cas's grave, professing undying love. It was slow and numbing and unfortunately it didn't conclude when the curtains closed.

Most mornings it was the silence that really reminded him of the reality of the whole ordeal. No more laughter. No more bickering over who finished the milk. No more Cas perched on the countertop reading out loud from an overly descriptive novel, using words Dean had no comprehension of, purposely to piss him off. So now the quiet was too much.

This particular morning Dean was standing, swaying slightly in the dusty haze of sunrise, watching his eggs burn in the pan and not caring at all; because what were some burnt eggs when he had no one to share them with. Even if he wanted to move the pan he couldn't. His hands suddenly wouldn't move from his sides, like someone had cut the chord connecting his brain to his arms.

Tears slipped down his cheeks and his nose dripped. He was so tired of feeling this way. When would it all just end? There was no escaping it. Cas was everywhere all around him, and no where to be seen, all at once.

Once the tears had stopped he tossed the burnt eggs in the bin and went back to bed with an aching stomach. He clutched his pillow as tight as he could. There was nothing in his life except this constant cycle of pain. Every morning reliving it. He dreamt of a day with no more tears, no more pain. If he could block it out he could survive, but he knew blocking out the hurt meant erasing Cas from his mind. And he couldn't do that. He could never do that. The pain was worth the memories. So he lay in the dark till the sleep took him and his dreams returned him to his love.

* * *

Three months after the accident, Dean was sat on his bed in the midday sunshine. Jess was there with Sam and they were holding boxes in their arms.

"It might help, Dean," Sam kept saying.

Jess dumped her box on the floor and bounced up next to Dean, "You don't have to do it if you're not ready. It's a big step."

Sam shook his head, "No. You _**do**_ need to do this, Dean. For you and for him. He'd never want you to be like this."

Dean stared as Sam opened the wardrobe.

"Sam, wait a sec. It's a sensitive issue," Jess warned.

"No, Jess. I can't sit back anymore," he grabbed Dean to his feet, "You need to start living again! This isn't living. Now, tell me what clothes were Cas's, you can help box them up. The shelter will appreciate them all."

Dean stepped back as Jess pushed Sam away from the wardrobe and the pair of them started arguing. He turned and looked at Cas's clothes, all neatly arranged in rows and categorised sections. Typical Cas. He reached for a shirt and pulled it from the hanger, drawing it up to his nostrils. It smelt dusty and aged and not at all like Cas. Before he realised what he was doing, he had fistfuls of clothes in his hands and was dumping them in the boxes.

Jess watched in disbelief, "Dean, are you sure?"

He nodded, "They don't even smell like him anymore. They're just clothes now..."

Once all the clothes were boxed up and packed in the car Sam came across and smoothed his hand over Dean's shoulder, "It's been long enough. You can let go."

Dean felt his heart quivering, his voice cracking with pain, "I can't."

"Why?"

"I don't know how to live anymore.."

"I'll help you. You have me and Jess," Sam encouraged.

"I miss him. All the time. With every breath. You don't understand... I hope you never will," Dean wearily said, wracked with exhaustion.

"I just want my brother back," Sam said quietly.

"I'll try," he said. The brothers embraced and Jess gave Dean a peck on the cheek and then the couple left.

He handed in his notice for the apartment a week later.

Jess stopped by that afternoon, as she did often now, and they sat side by side on the sofas with coffee.

"It's the right thing to do. Fresh start, and all that," Dean reassured.

She sipped from her mug, "As long as that's what you want, Dean. Whatever will make you happy."

"He made me happy. He's the reason I got us this place. It doesn't feel right living here without him beside me."

Jess acknowledged his words with a nod.

"I would have given him anything he wanted. Would have loved him till he was grey, do you know that?" Dean murmured, running his hand down the back of his head.

Jess squeezed his knee, "I know you would have. He was special."

Dean nodded, head heavy, "He just had a way about him, a twinkle, you know what I mean? I hate that he's gone, but I'm so glad I got him. Even if it was just for a little while."

"We were all lucky," She replied.

Dean was washing the mugs after Jess had gone and stuck a takeaway meal in the microwave. When Cas was alive they'd cooked and dined with fresh food but that kind of thing had never been of any importance to Dean. He'd only complied for Cas and he regretted how quick it had taken him to slip back into old habits.

The meal tasted like shit. He threw half of it away and sat with a bottle of whisky and classic rock.

Everyone had expected Dean to fall off the bandwagon once Cas die, so he took care to only indulge himself when he was alone. He gulped down the brown liquor and lay on the floor, watching the ceiling lights till the stars came out.

When half of the bottle had been drunk there was a knock at the door. Dean grunted and ignored the sound. The knocks persisted, loud and sharp against the wood. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered across the hall.

"Who's it?" He slurred.

"Dean. It's me."

He flung open the door immediately and stared in disbelief. The bottle slipped from his fingers, smashed across the floor. His eyes welled with tears. This was impossible. This had to be a dream. He was stood in a crisp blue suit with a beige trench coat and smiling that charming smile. His face glowing with light.

Dean's hands trembled as he reached for the man.

"_Cas_... Is it really you?"

_To be continued..._


End file.
